


Modern Romance

by scottie994



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Mild Smut, Romance, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:12:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 33,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottie994/pseuds/scottie994
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are perfectly flawed. And unconventionality is their specialty. AU, HitsuKarin</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Allure

 

It's in her eyes as she passes him by on her way to class. In the mischievous, yet vulnerable; the lustful, yet fearful, twinkling shades of onyx - an invitation.

He'll never understand her, he'd come to that conclusion long ago. He'll never know exactly what she's thinking or what she's feeling, and it lures him in.

He feels no guilt when he lets his gaze stray from the secretive darkness of Hinamori's to regard the true object of his affection, as she sends him one last look of unfathomable desire before turning the corner with nothing but grace, and he feels himself being pulled, like a magnet, in her direction.

He'll always follow her, that of which he's always known but only recently acknowledged, and with that compliance, as well as the recognition that she'd gone in the opposing direction of the class he's one-hundred percent sure she has, he yields.

"I'll see you later." he dismisses casually as he straightens up and submerges his hands in his pockets, onset to the wonderful unknown with nothing but blatant disregard to her hard stare as it bores into his back.

He ponders with every retreating step which one of them will give in first; will put aside their pride, and just call it. She knows. He knows for a fact that she knows. Yet, he wonders if she's realized that he's known her secret for quite some time as well.

It's not like he hasn't made it _blatantly_  clear.

If transparent, un-sugarcoated words don't do the breaking, then the secrets they keep will serve as their silent demise. And that, he's certain, had already begun.

No hindrance accompanies such recognition, however, as his heart no longer belongs with his publicly proclaimed 'sweetheart', and he has a sound feeling it never had. It always, without any doubt, belonged to  _her._

Thoughts of her flowing into his mental capacity once again, he's brought out of his brief, unwitting cogitation and back into their weekly, lustful game of follow-the-leader.

Taking his chance on the slightly ajar custodial room door, he peeks his head in, and sure enough, she's there, sitting atop the lone desk, a covetous smirk splayed from ear to ear across her angelic features.

Casually, he slips inside and closes the door behind him, the swift turning of the lock echoing about the small, dimly lit closet.

Anticipation ascends.

Mirroring her visage, he closes the distance, "Shouldn't you be in Calculus right about now?"

"Some things are more important.." she vouches, coy and unconcerned, "Shouldn't  _you_  be in History right about now?"

Smoothing his hands up her thighs, he ventures beneath her skirt and grasps her hips, drawing her closer, "Some things are more important."

Biting her lower lip, she lets a small giggle escape her, and with a sudden, dire urge to evade his doting gaze rivaling his unwavered, coveting incentive to exploit her imminent desire, their lips meet.

He tastes fresh, like the watermelon he never fails to consume each day at lunch, and she drinks it in; she tastes sweet, like the pastry she never fails to devour after every meal, and he savors it.

Her hands find their way into his hair, fisting the soft alabaster tresses in earnest fingers, whilst his tighten their hold on her most prominent curve, gripping the supple flesh with bruise inducing avidity, collectively heightening the room's temperature and making the space between them non-existent, lips smacking fervently.

Her dull nails dig into the back of his neck, evoking an all too predictable spell of husky moans, and in retaliation, his hands pave a quick path beneath her blouse, disregarding the confines of her brassiere for the sake of manipulating her own weakness, prompting the surefire loll of her head.

A combination of soft giggles and gasps escape her as he begins to kiss and suckle the nape of her neck, the act far too stimulating to be fair.

His victorious smirk is felt against her skin as she succumbs to his captivation, yielding to every expertise and beguiling caress, and she nearly lets him believe he's won before suddenly taking back the reins, capturing his lips once again as her hand curls around his uniform tie, with intent of discarding the futile accessory.

She collars his lower lip with her teeth, tugging none too gently as she begins unfastening the buttons of his shirt, exposing his rather chiseled torso to her greedy caress, fingertips tracing each and every fine angle.

His silent, almost desperate inquiry echoes when she pauses at his waistline -  _is it finally going to happen?_

That cues a sadistic curl of her lips, yet she continues to kiss him with nothing but intense, genuine yearning, her hands fiddling with his belt buckle in false clumsiness all the while, as she had no intention of unhinging it.

His partially displeased message is delivered by way of a callous bite on her bottom lip -  _tease._

She merely giggles; the petty schoolgirl giggle she saves especially for him, as she knows it makes his blood boil.

This loathsome cackle soon becomes a triumphant exult once she's grazed his hardened groin, her dark eyes gleaming with pride as she draws back to meet his disappointed teal gaze, and a charming smirk plays her lips.

She relays her request for him to step aside by way of uncoiling her legs, setting him free.

Sliding off the desk, Karin composes her clothes to a presentable degree and rakes her hands through her hair, feigning that of an innocent teenager. "I'll see you at practice." she promises, projecting pure nonchalance as she saunters to the exit. Halting with her hand curled around the doorknob, she casts him one last glance, and without an ounce of sincerity, "Say 'hi' to Momo for me."

Toshiro loiters for a brief spell, trademark scowl reprising it's role as his excitement wears off and he's left to stew in sexual frustration once again. He fastens his shirt, straightens his tie, and with an exasperated exhale, he runs calloused fingers through his hair, assuming the image of - as  _she_  so delicately puts it - an arrogant bastard once more.

Her words echo through his mind, the underlying notion undeniable, as her consistent words of departure were his reminder: until he was single, that was as far with her as he was going to get.

One would think he'd comply, break it off with Hinamori and become a single man, only to make his relationship with Karin official the next day. Yet, he won't, despite himself, because, in the most twisted areas of his mind, he saw it as a challenge. Just like the girl herself was a challenge. And he truly believed, with good reason, she was just begging him to break her resolve.

Challenge accepted.

_._

_.there is no modern romance._

_._


	2. Reprieve

 

Three hours a day, four days a week, Toshiro is able to let loose all his bottled up frustrations in the most inconspicuous way.

Through soccer.

And as always, Karin's there, right alongside him, unleashing that temper of hers that never seemed to let up.

* * *

It had been a custom of theirs for years, ever since that prime age of eleven when he was an angry boy with parental issues, who thought the paramount approach in getting their attention was to a kick about a soccer ball with as much feeling as he could emit through his right leg, sending the little inflated sphere soaring at incredible heights and speed.

His rather doltish plan didn't work, however, as his parents were still his parents and the only company he ever had when he was home was a maid who could barely speak his language. Yet, none of that had ever truly vexed him, as something even greater and wonderfully unexpected had come out of his new hobby.

It was how he met  _her._

He'd found her annoying, at first. She was too spunky and temperamental for his liking; too good at soccer and the art of a perfectly timed comeback for his pride.

But she was always there; in class, at the soccer field, on his way home from school, and he got used to her. She became an unrelenting facet, a constant aspect of his life, and it comforted him, abated what he'd previously feared would be a permanent ache in his heart, to know that there would always be  _someone_.

Granted that ' _someone_ ' was in the form of a petite raven-haired girl who preferred to use her fists, rather than her words, to talk the sense into him whenever he'd go off the rails and become a person neither of them liked, there was no denying his appreciation, nor her devotion.

Even as they grew older, her demeanor being unfathomable agitation and his being frightening indifference, when their problems increased in size and soccer didn't quite quell the woe, she remained his saviour and he remained her go-to guy, and they always, without fail, pulled each other back up.

* * *

Their bond only deepened Junior year, on that fateful Autumn morning when he'd received a pathetically short letter from his parents, the flimsy document merely explaining that they'd gone to Europe and that he was to be in the care of maids and a trust fund. And naturally, Karin was there, the element of radiance in his broken world.

She helped him smash his mother's most precious vases, she helped him drink his father's most prized bottles of wine, and then, once the initial rage was let out and the heartbreak of abandonment was too much to keep in, she comforted him, like she always did, as her duties of a best friend entailed.

Neither questioned why he'd called her instead of Hinamori, his girlfriend of one year at the time, and they never did. 'Cause he was still hopelessly ignorant, and she was all too aware.

* * *

It was one year later when recognition occurred.

Two weeks into their Senior year - that was when he caught a long overdue glimpse, a fleeting and distanced look, of Hinamori with  _him_. And out of habit, he ventured to the local soccer field, proceeding to bask in the quiet, cool night whilst his chest churned and his thoughts raged, what he assumed to be heartbreak twisting in his gut.

And of course, as if she'd felt his anger radiating through town, Karin was there. So, instead of taking his feelings out on the soccer ball, he took them out on her, with his lips and his hands as he pinned her against the nearest surface, receiving nothing but passionate admission in return.

But it wasn't resentful retaliation that drove him, he discovered soon after; it was a suppressed urge. One of which he hadn't been aware he was harboring, until that night, when his heart finally felt content - with  _her._

However, despite these revelations, he would continue dating Hinamori - for reasons he had yet to disclose - and she would feel a sense of anguish at his resolve, yet wouldn't let it show, as, if she were to recount, it was a particular affliction she'd long since become accustomed to.

And so commenced the ailing scheme.

* * *

It's late October, six weeks following their silent confession, when his irritation piques yet again, at soccer practice, as they both go about their duties as Captain and Vice Captain of the team.

An indignant scowl twists his otherwise handsome features while he watches her strut about the field, oversized jersey cropped up at the hip to unwittingly show off her subtle assets, and talk to their fellow teammates. She goes for the single ones - the ones that claim they need assistance with their drills for the 'discrete' sake of flirtation, and as she flirts back, her obsidian gaze meets his turquoise glower.

He perceives it as he should.

It's a common facet; a look that reminds him just how easy it would be for her to take one of them, and give them the very thing he desires most from her.

She won't, he knows. But she could, he's sure, and it takes every bit of his self-restraint not to claim her at that very moment, make her his and ward off all unwanted courters, as that act alone will mean her victory, and his loss. Why he cared so much about the 'game', he hadn't quite determined, but he was irrevocably adamant to surpass her delectable charms and infuriating trials, and come out the victor.

So, instead of complying to her silently transmitted provocation, he will simply help her coach his mentally proclaimed enemies, and all the while, she will just smirk, 'cause little did he know, that was the equivalent of claiming her, albeit indirectly.

Perhaps that's how she got him wrapped around her slim little finger - by being both the source, and the reprieve, of his frustrations.

* * *

Reprieve comes later that night, when he drives her home from practice, as per usual, and breaks her cardinal 'no goodnight kiss' rule. It's a small win, but he takes it with greed, capturing her lips in a sweet and fervid kiss for a brief extent, evoking a simultaneous flutter of their hearts.

"You shouldn't have done that." she berates once he pulls away, both her expression and tone lacking contempt.

A smirk plays his lips in response, "I had to verify something." he vouches, lightly tracing her lower lip with his thumb.

"Oh?" She raises a brow, "And what would that be?"

It's reflected in his eyes when he meets her gaze. Even in the darkness of the car, she can see it. What she secretly feared he'd realize; that she was his, and she always will be.

 

_._

_.I'll be the one, free of jealousy._

_._


	3. Perfect

 

She's brimming with triumph, a broad grin and pink tinge painting her dazzling features, and she's practically bouncing in the passenger seat.

He's also sporting a victorious smirk and there's a similar air of pride about him as he drives, but he's rather indifferent, compared to her.

They'd beat their rival team by a single goal at the last possible second, and their undefeated season continues. The booze had been cheap and the pizza had been awful, so they left the victory party early, to go nowhere in particular.

"Let's go to the lake." Karin suggests excitedly, onyx eyes gleaming brightly through the darkness to meet his brilliant, yet dull, teal.

"It's November," Toshiro states bluntly, briskly turning his attention back to the road. "You'll freeze."

"No I won't," she denies with utmost confidence. "The water is warmer this time of year, and even  _more so_  at night." When he doesn't respond, she summons an irrefutable pout, "C'mon, please?"

Feeling instant defeat, he sighs, "Fine. But don't come crying to me when you get pneumonia."

A delighted squeal is her response.

* * *

Bolting from the car not a second after he's parked, Karin quickly makes her way down the semi-clear cut path through the trees, steadfast towards her supposedly 'warm' destination, while Toshiro, for good measure, retrieves the blanket from the trunk and follows her lead at a leisurely pace.

She's already dived in the lake when he reaches the clearing, swimming around in childish glee, and with an insuppressible smile, he takes his place at end of the dock, his gaze set solely on her as he leans back on his hands, a sense of bliss wafting through him.

Advancing to him in a single stride, she wades before him, brows raised expectantly, "Aren't you coming in?"

"No." She frowns. "I prefer to stay dry and somewhat warm."

"What a shame.." she sighs in false tribulation, swimming back several yards. "And to think, I'm out here all alone. Naked."

That certainly roused his interest. "Are you really?"

She giggles lightly, sending a wave about her with a noncommittal shrug, "Maybe, maybe not."

The word 'no' echoes. "I'm good here." he vouches, crossing one leg over the other for added effect and further comfort.

"Suit yourself," she practically sings, gliding gracefully through the water once more and splashing about with newfound giddiness, whilst he just continues to watch her, eyes glazing over with affection.

In the light of the moon and the stars, she's elegant. In the hue of natural, un-glamorized facial features and long, perfectly tangled ebony tresses, she's beautiful. And in accompaniment of true and inexact personality, she's rapturous; it's inwardly charming, outwardly repellant, and overall alluring.

She's perfect in her simplicity. Flawed in her complexity.

He can't deny his infatuation. He's never felt more drawn to anyone or anything to such an irrevocable degree than he is to her, and with pure consciousness of this roaring fact, he finds himself in deep thought.

Perhaps he should disclose the truth.

His heart says yes, his conscience says maybe, and his mind, oh, his twisted mind, says no. He remains conflicted; he feels guilty and heartless, but at the same time, moral and compassionate. It's a corrupted scheme they're playing out, and he's unsure that either of them will come out of it unscathed. This worries him to no end, yet intrigues him, and it puts him on the edge of an imaginative seat, suspension of future outcomes everflowing through his being.

No, he wouldn't tell the truth; it's far too soon.

* * *

" _Holy fuck_  it's freezing!" Karin exclaims nearly an hour later as she hoists herself onto the dock, clad only in a scant black ensemble, instantly succumbing to a spell of shivers. Assuming the feeble position, she allows her form to be enclosed by a thick blanket, courtesy of Toshiro, and merely grins in gratitude, teeth chattering audibly.

Draping his coat around her shoulders soon after, he heaves a reprimanding sigh, "You're definitely going to catch a cold."

Her grin only widens, "It was worth it."

Shaking his head with a none too discrete smirk, he stands up and holds out his hand, "Come on, let's get you home."

* * *

She exploits the interval of time he takes to round the car to free herself from the blanket's binds and done her jeans once again, and once he's situated in the driver's seat, she mounts his lap, creating an obstacle between him and starting the engine.

Not that he minds.

Features prominently brightened, he smirks, "Hey beautiful."

Despite her misgivings towards the affectionate epithet, she giggles, her tone dropping to a winsome octave, "Hi."

The remnants of her chills diminish within the following minutes, as her lips move sensually with his and his nails dig lustfully into the soft flesh of her back, having discarded her damp top and drew her flush against him, allowing his warmth to stimulate heat waves through her body.

But that's as far as it goes. He won't bother to push, and she won't bother to incite, and they'll simply kiss, makeout for an indefinite extent of time, feigning that of two people in love, rather than two best friends caught in a game.

And it felt right.

.

.

.

When he parks the car on the curb in front of her house, she wastes no time getting out and merely mutters a curt 'good night' before shutting the door unceremoniously, leaving him puzzled.

She'd enjoyed herself too much; they'd felt too much like a couple. And the fact that they weren't, stung her. It was like a knife, a blade sheathed with poison, searing into her dignity and grazing the heart she so carefully guarded.

It had been her biggest mistake - falling in love with her best friend. He was the only one who truly understood her, knew what made her tick; what turned her on and off, and with that knowledge, he would surely win.

And it would be a welcomed defeat.

But in the most contorted areas of her mind, the most twisted particles of her being, she hoped he'd prolong the inevitable victory. Let her salvage her pride and free her heart, before he dominates it completely.

_._

_.make me a bird, I'll fly away, beyond the comforts of the sick, sick game._

_._


	4. Crumble

 

It's a ritual of sorts. A weekly tradition; nearly every Friday after school, she accepts the invitation to go to his house.

They set their books in the living room, with the intent of doing their homework afterwards, they strip off their outerwear in a common and ceremonial manner, and in record time, they ascend the stairs to the second floor, where he leads her past several stocked closets and vacant bedrooms, down the lonely corridor to his own private sanctuary.

The one he'd chosen amongst all others, given all the natural light.

He briefly swallows his pride and reclines back on the bed, upon her coercion, and with the sanction of a seductive smirk, mirroring her own, she begins their practice of enchanting torture.

She captures his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging none too gently as she discards his tie, and leads a trail of kisses along his jaw as she unfastens the buttons of his shirt, the end result being the formation of a doting bruise at the nape of his neck and a thorough exploration of his toned torso by her rapacious hands, inciting the pick up of his heartbeat.

Her lips find his once more as her nails dig into every taut muscle of his halfly exposed and beguiling body, his skin becoming fevered to her touch with every passing second.

This state of being only heightens when she, having mastered the art of unhinging his belt buckle, discards the leather sash in the swiftest of movements and pushes her pelvis into his groin at full force, evoking his first gasp, and her mouth forms a winsomely amused smile as he bites down on her lower lip, grasping the linens in an audible manner of restraint from touching her.

Both his arousal and dwindling control prominent, she ends her round with a sense of triumph and mild chivalry.

Grasping the collar of his shirt, she pulls him up and incites the turning-of-the-tables, her lips clumsily clashing with his whilst she reclines onto her back, permitting him to pin her against the mattress as she folds her arms above her head, projecting blatant consent.

He carries out her procedure with further aggression.

Discarding her bow with a mere tug of the red fabric and unbuttoning her blouse with brisk expertise, her torso is exposed in a matter of seconds, the soft, creamy skin falling immediate victim to his gentle, yet emphatic, nips.

His hands soon glide beneath her skirt, scrunching the gray guise up to her waist, and continue beneath the confines of the black garb he finds rather futile at times like these, yet, completely necessary. Gripping her hips with heightened avidity, he draws her firmly against him for the sake of stimulation, his body partially keeling over at the sensations, and with increased fervor, he forges ahead in his sexual advances, steadfast towards sovereignty.

Meanwhile, she absentmindedly twirls ashy locks in her fingers and displays the giddiest of smiles, the sense of refrain tolerable.

His lips and hands meet in the middle, at the borders of supportive cotton that hooked in the front, and in a split-second of contemplation, he neglects it, as he always prolongs the unhinging of her brassiere and the exploration of her most supple assets until his second round.

Instead, he grasps her slim curves with greed, nips her smooth skin with zest, and captures her lips once more with vehemence, domination fast approaching.

It was then, that she heard it. An imaginative and deafening  _crack_.

She hadn't thought it would happen so soon, not after only seven weeks. But then again, she reminds herself that, even without the physical interactions, the emotion and friendship they had long before the commencement of their game had lit the fire, and now that they've stoked the flames, it merely burns brighter.

Suddenly, her face feels too hot, her moans sound too eager, and his touches are too much to handle. She knows that with the simple utterance of a single syllable, he'll stop immediately. Yet, even with that cognizance, she allows him continue, lets him govern her body and her heart, unaware of her affliction.

 _'Just a little longer.'_  - she mentally decides, in spite of herself, 'cause it was all just, too marvelous.

This resolve breaks soon after it's conjured, however, once he's grazed the thin fabric of concealment and she knows he's felt it, that she knows, just seconds from that moment, she'll give in, and she recoils, assuming her guard once more.

"Stop."

He promptly complies, albeit reluctantly, and rolls onto his back beside her, barely stifling a sigh as he runs a calloused hand through his dishevelled locks, inevitable calamity taking it's toll.

Sexual tension fills the air, and it suffocates her. The deep blue walls surrounding them remind her of his eyes, the ivory ceiling above them remind her of his hair, and she finds that, without even looking at him, she's being drawn to him once again.

It evokes a jolt of panic.

Clearing her throat rather awkwardly, she starts fastening the buttons of her shirt once more and sits up, "I think I'm gonna go."

His brow creases in response, as this manner of speech and action was quite unlike her. "Are you okay?" he questions with a tinge of concern.

She merely nods.

Unconvinced and rather unwilling to let her go, he sits up and snakes an arm around her waist in a discrete attempt to arrest her. "You should stay for dinner." he suggests, trying not to sound too desperate for her company.

She nearly declines, but when she meets his gaze and regards the dejection he works so hard to hide, the thought of leaving is cast to oblivion and the faintest smirk plays her lips, "You shouldn't of fired your maid, if you're this lonely without her."

"She was elderly," he reasons blandly, "it was immoral to have her clean up after me when I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself." His features twist into a falsified scowl, "And who says I'm lonely?"

Her smirk broadens ever so slightly, "I think it's safe to put the blame on that tortured look you're giving me." His scowl becomes mildly genuine, and she chuckles with further reasoning, "Or maybe it's because I've been glued to your hip for the past six years, and you can't hide anything from me, no matter how hard you try." He feels a pang of guilt at her obliviousness. "I know you too well."

At that, his mouth twitches in an amiable manner, yet, he evades the subject, and instead, "Come on," he slides off the bed, proceeding to the door with feigned nonchalance, "I'll make you mac 'n' cheese."

Grinning at the mention of her favourite dish, she follows his lead, dismissing her troubles for temporary alleviation.

* * *

Watching in mild disgust as she squirts ketchup overtop her plate of cheesy noodles, Toshiro scowls, "Why must you disgrace my wonderful cooking with churned tomatoes?"

Karin merely chuckles, casting the bottle aside after one last, spiteful squirt, "'Cause it makes it better, that's why."

He rolls his eyes with a clear 'whatever' notion, and she continues to eat whilst focusing her attention once more on her math book.

Not five minutes later, she elicits an indignant  _hmph_ , drawing his attention, "What is it now?"

"I can't find the value of  _x_." she mutters for what had to be the tenth time that night, and with a tinge of pretension, he leans over to regard the question.

Not a split-second later, "It's twenty-six."

She shoots him an envious glare, "How do you do that?!"

"I'm a genius, remember?" He says it without an ounce of conceit, as it is a known fact. "Also, I took that class in advance last year."

"You took almost every class in advance last year," she recounts grudgingly, "I'm surprised you didn't just skip a grade."

"I could have." he assures aloofly, sending a charming smirk her way, "But then I would've graduated without you."

"Well aren't you sweet," she remarks subtlety, feigning mockery over flattery, "delaying your future for me."

An unreadable, heart-melting stare is all she receives; he merely holds her gaze, harboring no intention of a retort.

He soon resumes his school work, resigning the claim of how he wants his future to be  _with_  her to the back of his mind, and she ignorantly follows suit, nothing but frustration directed at her maths exercise as she continues to gnaw on the end of her fork.

* * *

The words ' _I love you_ ' go unsaid at her departure, but they are heard, as if sent telepathically, and with the unspoken notion, she leaves, and he's left to stew in newfound melancholy as he watches her walk down the driveway to the taxi she'd insisted on taking home, despite his offer to drive her himself.

Closing his front door soon after, the latch and lock echo through the barren house, and the homelike feeling he gets when she's there is gone, leaving nothing but bare white walls and soundless hardwood floors in its wake.

Her scent lingers in his room, woven into the threads of his sheets, so he avoids residence.

Instead, he dresses an unused mattress with brand new sheets in one of many vacant guest rooms. Yet, he doesn't sleep; mental capacity in chaos, he simply lays with his arms folded behind his head and stares dejectedly at the ceiling. And as he does so, the ache in his heart increases, a self-inflicted one at that, and he feels the stone walls of his perfectly fabricated guard crumble, leaving him vulnerable as ever.

It's times like these, when he's alone and unwillingly basking in solitude, that he truly despises himself.

* * *

Clad in sweatpants and one of  _his_  t-shirts, she sits on her bed, arms wrapped around her legs and knees brought up to her chin, dark eyes cast to nothing in particular, vision mildly bleary. It had truly been with a sense of nostalgia, or perhaps her irrevocable habit of subjecting herself to misery, that she'd donned this two-size too big blue t-shirt, of which she'd 'borrowed' one day after practice and never gave back, and she had half a mind to change; maybe even burn the damn thing in a melodrama-driven stupor.

But she didn't; she couldn't. 'Cause, as pitiful as she knew it was, it made her feel somewhat _happy._  It provided a faint sense of alleviation, reminders of him, within it's scent and it's softness, neither of which lacked despite several washes, she thought of _him_.

She almost found herself caught in reminiscence.

And she would have, if it weren't for the intrusion of Yuzu.

With a sweet smile on her face and a tray of brownies in her grasp, she joins her dark-haired twin on the bed. She radiates enthusiasm, despite her knowledge. It's betrayed by the bruises, or rather, the  _love bites_  on her sister's neck, and no doubt on the rest of her body. She says nothing, having enough sense to keep her comments to herself, but it's reflected in her brown eyes as she greets her sister upon her return from 'studying' at Toshiro's; when she meets the raven-head's gaze to see the truth reflected in those somber obsidian depths, it's all too clear.

Karin's blatantly aware of this, but feigns ignorance.

Even now, as they sit side by side, eating brownies and watching cartoons, her vision becoming more blurred by the minute as few tears escape, she acts as if Yuzu's uncharacteristically sad eyes aren't watching her out of their peripherals; even as she rests her head on her honey-blonde sibling's shoulder and squeezes her eyes shut, as she was determined not to cry, she pretends everything is okay.

And she can only pray that her unconscious will steer clear of anything remotely green-eyed best-friend related.

 

_._

_.here come the dreams of you and me._

_._


	5. Pride

****

Irrevocable is, in the pure and simple definition of the word, their love for each other.

His lonely heart is abated with every kiss, every touch, every laugh and smile, that he receives from her.

Her scarred soul is replenished with every caress, every glance, every smirk and chuckle, that she's granted from him.

Toshiro Hitsugaya is a kind and level-headed man, but he is twisted by his demons and his pride. Karin Kurosaki is a lively and outwardly balanced woman, but she is contorted by her emotions and her dignity.

They are perfectly flawed.

* * *

It's not just the mere element of pride that keeps their game alive, they've discovered, but rather, a simple fact: they're too fucked up for anything conventional, and they like it that way.

Making out behind closed doors, with an air of secrecy surrounding them, fuels their passion and diminishes their issues. In the dingy closets and deserted classrooms of Karakura High, with the sounds of their fellow classmates echoing through the thin drywall, they continue the ailing war. And it's nothing short of wonderful; she doesn't heed the castigating voice in her head, nor does he give her the chance.

There's no room for censure when he pins her against the wall - only a juncture of shameless consent and heated response. There's nothing overbearing about his advances, but he's no less dominant; he knows her weak spots, her various on-switches, and he exploits them none too gently. Whilst, at the same time, he coerces her lips to move with his in such a sensual and nonabrasive way that she doesn't even care when he grips too hard, as her mind is already too clouded with desire to notice.

Even when the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch period, they remain in place, too caught up in sexual frenzy to care; in fact, the disruptive noise in practically inaudible to her ringing ears as he nips at the nape of her neck, evoking a low spell of ragged gasps to erupt in her throat.

She hums in euphoric delight as bruises undoubtedly form amongst the dotingly attacked skin, unwittingly stroking his already extensive ego, and it gives him a hopeful sense possessiveness; lips ghosting the skin in a chill-inciting manner, he kisses his way to her earlobe, his voice husky as he whispers, "I want you ( _just give in_ )."

Regaining an acceptable level of coherence, she summons a sly grin, tone just as raspy and lustful as his when she whispers in return, "Then take me ( _you can't have me_ )."

The partially vindictive smirk that meets his lips is as audible as the unspoken notion behind his words, and he draws back only so far as to meet her hazy gleam with his own. "You're a cruel woman, Karin," he says in a false dismal tone, angling her chin up with the hand not currently placed on her backside, "teasing me like this."

A coy smirk twists her angelic features. " _Me_ , a _tease?_ " she says in false incredulity, one hand clutching the front of his shirt and drawing the space between them to non-existence once more. "What _ever_  do you mean?"

He doesn't bother voicing a response, the inviting glint in her eyes and coquettish bite of her lower lip too much to resist; she really hates when he kisses her this way, so gentle and affectionate as if there's no game being played. It almost has her running, if not for the fact that she was currently pinned to the wall by none other than his enchanting self, leaving her with only one other choice.

"You're going to lose," she declares breathlessly, having broken the kiss prematurely to whisper confidence in his ear.

He sends a chilling breath down the nape of her neck as a chuckle-esque scoff escapes him.

"You think so?" he mutters softly, and his argument becomes clear when his hand glides beneath her skirt, grazing the soft flesh with doting vengeance; he doesn't give her time to recoil or refute before grasping the utmost sensitive and so far unchartered area between her thighs, evoking an all too thrilled, albeit low, gasp from his personal source of euphoria. He fosters the sanctioning and raspy melody that once more escapes her, a triumphant smirk playing his lips as his fingertips work their magic.

Then, not a minute later and too soon for her liking, his hand retracts, self-proclaimed victory underlying his tone as he huskily declares, "Not a chance," and plants a partially loving, partially spiteful kiss on her cheek.

Swiftly turning on his heel, Toshiro submerges his hands in his pockets and saunters to the exit with an intimidating air of coolness, ultimately leaving Karin to scowl after his retreating figure with desirous eyes and a fast beating heart, falling victim to sexual frustration yet again.

However, when the door closes behind him and she's left alone, she can't help but smile; amongst all the cruelty and corruption, this game was too fun.

 

_._

_.don't you like it on the sly, don't you like it till it hurts._

_._


	6. Sham

 

It had been a lapse of character, his decision to continue ' _dating_ ' Hinamori.

Uncovering her infidelity had brought his deeply buried self-righteousness to the surface, and he'd felt he deserved to the hear the truth from her, rather than say it himself. Yet, he was never granted with such a kindness. Just further lies and excuses, veiled by sweet tones and cute gleams, all of which left him wondering how long he'd been fooled.

Even as it became clear that he knew - due to his own efforts, of course - she didn't budge, and neither did his resolve.

However, when his physical escapades with Karin grew more affectionate and frequent, he found both his bitterness disappearing and resolution faltering, falling away completely, and with that, came an unspoken concord between Momo and himself.

And that was when the conspiracies began.

* * *

Out of an agreed obligation, Toshiro loiters at her locker whilst the hallways fill out with bustling students, all eager to escape the dreaded building until the following Monday. He can only praise their former selves for not succumbing to the popular PDA ritual as couples so often did; they'd been a modest pair, for which he was glad, as it gave no further obligations to give a goodbye hug or kiss for the sake of their scheme.

"Alright," In record time, Momo straightens up and slings her bag over her shoulder, "I gotta get to tutoring." The announcement is rather unnecessary, he muses, given the near-barren hallway. "I'll see you later, Shiro," she says sweetly and begins her stride down the corridor.

"See ya," he returns coolly, proceeding in the other direction. "Give my regards to Professor Aizen."

Her shoulders no longer tense, his smirk no longer reflects spite, and there is silent ratification between them, as they've come to an agreement;  _'You sure have become a twisted bastard, Toshiro.'_  - that was her initial response to his proposition, yet she'd accepted without refute, as it worked in her favor and she couldn't care less about his corrupted motives, nor did he concern himself with her rather sickening preferences.

They didn't speak more than necessary, and they spent as little time together as possible; they've made their appearance as a 'happy' couple, and now, they were free to follow their hearts - in opposite directions.

His heart leads him to the school's parking lot, where sure enough, Karin awaits. Snuggling into her winter coat, she casually leans against the hood of his car and fiddles with her cellphone, giving no blatant notion that she was anything more than his best friend, waiting to keep him company whilst his girlfriend 'studies'.

He approaches her at a leisurely pace, a smile twisting his features as he comes up beside her. "Hey."

With an instant grin, she slips her phone into her coat pocket and swivels to face him, "Hey."

"For what do I owe this pleasure?" he inquires, feigning both ignorance and gentlemanhood.

A light chuckle escapes her. "It's Friday," she states, eyes gleaming suggestively. "And we have some  _very_  important studying to do."

Toshiro mirrors her visage, "We best not waste any time, then."

  _._  


_.please don't tell my secrets, keep them hidden._

_._


	7. Bitter

 

It's a daily sentiment for Karin Kurosaki -  _animosity._

It's self-animosity at that; she feels it brew on her way to fifth period class, after she'd spent the last half of lunch hour with Toshiro. The taste of his lips stain hers, his scent lingers on her clothes, and she feels like a walking neon sign that broadcasts her treachery.

This bitterness piques substantially when she enters the classroom and takes her assigned seat in front of Hinamori, forcing an aura of indifference throughout the entire lesson in spite of the other girls' hard stare boring into the back of her head. It never failed to send shock waves of guilt through her, rattling her mask of composure, and she'd always feel a sense of self-hatred settle in her chest.

However, as of recent weeks, she only falls victim to ever so often glances, such looks holding no hostility nor did they cause overwhelming contrition, and although this should appease her, it unnerves her.

It's as if, whether or not Hinamori had known from the beginning, she simply just doesn't care anymore, and that adds a considerable level of confusion to the mix.

* * *

"Toshiro!"

Pivoting on the spot, Toshiro regarded his best-girl-friend stalking towards him, expression rather stern, and with ever-present indifference, he waits.

"Karin," he accosts blandly once she was in spitting distance, raising an expectant brow at her.

"We need to talk," she states firmly.

"Er.. I'd love to, but I don't really have time to  _talk_  right now."

"I mean with actual  _words_ , you idiot!" she hisses irritably.

Apprehensively, "Oh.."

.

.

.

"You should try and act more hateful towards her," Toshiro suggests in all seriousness.

Momo raises a brow, "Pardon?"

"To  _Karin_ ," he practically hissed. "She thinks you know and thinks you don't care, and it's screwing things up."

"Well, I do know and I don't care," she affirms bluntly. "And in terms of screwing up whatever it is you have going on with her, you're doing a fine job on your own." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Fine," she sighed, almost exasperatedly, "I'll glare at her more often, is that good enough?"

"It'll have to be," he says callously, scanning the hallway briefly as he straightened up, proceeding to depart.

"You're going to lose."

Halting his step before it even began, he turns to face her once more, question twisting his features.

"And I don't mean that fucked up game you've planned out," Closing her locker, she casts him one of her friendly looks, "you're going to lose her heart." Quizzical expression becoming that of a shameful scowl, he watches her retreat, her following words ringing in his ears, "Because you're going to break it."

* * *

Karin's belligerence is abated later the night, when Toshiro makes a surprise appearance around the block and she sneaks past her boisterous father to go meet him; they kiss as fervently as ever in the front seat of his car whilst she straddles him with her legs, and his presence pushes all feelings of self-loathe to the deepest pits of her being, where they await to resurface the following day, in fifth period, when she'll sit in front of his girlfriend and fall victim to guilt-inciting glares.

He assures her that there's nothing to worry about, that her suspicions were wrong and they were still in the clear, to which she merely nods and smiles, swallowing words as she continues to kiss him. However, she feels no relief; she could almost say she was disappointed. It's as if she wanted it to be true, hoped that it would've had him breaking it off, and above all, wished that he would finally be hers, completely.

But as it stands, he wasn't; he still refrained from making his ultimate choice. It nearly threatens to bring about her acrimony prematurely, directed at him alone. Yet, she feels something different entirely. It's completely out of context, off base and at the wrong time, but, she feels it anyway, swimming gleefully in her heart and flowing adamantly about in her mind, making it impossible to ignore.

Suddenly, she draws back, still within close proximity, and, blinking the haze from her eyes, she stares at him, quite intently.

He tilts his head to the side, features twisting with cute concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah..." she says softly, mouth curling into a rather doting grin as she bites her lower lip and begins to absentmindedly play with his hair, gaze unwavering; and after a brief spell of curious scrutiny, Toshiro feels his heart ache and skip simultaneously, evoking a faint sense of guilty sickness.

It's clear in the beam of street lights, reflected in the gleam of pure admiration in her dark eyes; right on the surface. It may be in vain that he perceives those three little words with just a simple and silent look, but he has a easy time believing the opposite. It's all too clear. It's all too much. And it's all too unnerving, in spite of the appeasement it should've given him.

Almost desperately, eager to forsake the notion and the moment, he captures her lips once more, making sure to inflict just the right amount of aggression. However, despite his efforts, Hinamori's final words from earlier echo through his mind, and his self-loathe returns, anyway.

 

_._

_.maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away, yeah, maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it, yeah, maybe I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad person, well, baby, I know._

_._


	8. Bound

 

It's the day following the night she almost said those three little words out loud, right to his face, that she finds herself amiss. It's a common feeling for Karin, one that befalls her on a weekly basis, but this time, it's different; it's more complex. And it's more troubling. It twists her dignity and her empathy, making her feel sick, whilst her heart pleads relentlessly. It's becoming contorted with all these conflicting emotions she's subjecting herself to, and it wants to explode.

She curses herself. And moreover, she curses  _him._

There's no question that she loves him. There's no doubt that she wants him. And there's no denying that she needs him. But even so, she loves him too much, she wants him too often, and she needs him too desperately.

And above all, she longs to be free of him; to push him away for good, and hope he stays there.

Yet, he won't. Whether or not she begged, 'cause ever since that fateful day all those years ago when they were just two eleven year-old strangers, she's been bound by the imaginary string he has tied around her heart, and he's keeping a firm grip.

* * *

He sees her through the crowd, at the end of the hallway, and their eyes meet briefly - before she quickly whips around and disappears.

He sighs; it's been days of this hide-and-seek game she'd initiated, and it was starting to get under his skin, evoking an itch that wouldn't let up. Not without her touch, of which he's been deprived of for nearly a week.

Devoid of any further patience, he begins an inhumanly fast stride down the corridor, pushing his way through the bustling students, and soon reaches a small clearing in the next, where she can be seen going towards the exit.

He picks up his pace, "Karin."

Her shoulders visibly tense, but she turns to him with a smile nonetheless. "Toshiro!" she greets with false enthuse, running a timid hand through her hair. "What's up?"

For good measure, he scans the barren hallway before responding, "You're avoiding me."

"What?" she refutes airily, waving a hand in a 'pish-posh' gesture, " _No_." She chuckles and scratches the back of her head - a dead giveaway that she's nervous. "Why would I be avoiding you?"

"I don't know," he drawls, his brilliant gaze boring into her as he folds his arms over his chest, and she feels her heart flutter anxiously. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Oh Toshiro.. you're always _so_  cynical." His stare goes unwavered, and she rocks back on her heels, eyes darting around in a poor attempt to evade his. "I'm not avoiding you, really." He cocks a skeptical brow. "I'm just.. I've just been busy, that's all."

"Uh huh.."

"Listen," she takes a slow step back, "I have to go, but I'll see you.. er, tomorrow."

His brows furrow once she pushes the doors open, letting sunlight fill the hallway. "You're leaving?" She merely nods, meeting his gaze once more. "But, you have three classes left."

"Uh.." she stammers briefly, "... they're not important!" With a quick wave and a forced smile, she exits the building, "Bye!"

Staring at the door as it closes, Toshiro remains stilled on the spot with an air of confusion and anger surrounding him. Yet, he doesn't go after her; he doesn't have to. 'Cause he knows it's only a matter of time until she comes back on her own.

* * *

It's Thursday, one whole week of her avoidance, when he receives the letter. Upon arriving home from school, Toshiro sifts through his mail, and with disregard of the address and writing, he opens the manilla envelope.

He feels his heart drop with a cartoon style crash whilst he reads the mere sentences of his mother's unmistakable handwriting, as it had been embedded in his mind since childhood, and his frown deepens to an unchartered depth.

He re-reads the letter several times in search for any ounce or indication of motherly love, but fails miserably and eventually tosses it on a nearby table, such dejection emitted in the throw that it barely meets the countertop and falls to the floor with a deafening  _sweep_.

And all he can think when he flops down on the living room sofa is how much he wishes Karin was there.

* * *

Toshiro's absence from school that Friday had piqued her 'concerned bestfriend' meter, as he only misses school when he's incredibly upset, and despite her resolve of avoidance, she goes to see him.

After she's gone home to change into jeans and a t-shirt, she takes a taxi to his house, where the second sign that he's upset is heard by way of music blaring through the confines of the semi-large building. Her ears fall victim to  _St. Anger_  playing at maximum volume once she crosses the threshold, and she promptly strips off her coat before ascending the stairs to the second floor, where the music leads her to his father's old office.

Entering the designated room within the minute, she immediately turns off the record player for the sake of not losing her hearing, which catches a shirtless Toshiro's attention. "Ah, Karin!" he accosts jovially and raises his arms in a welcoming gesture, beer in one hand and golf club in the other. "What a pleasant surprise."

There's the third sign: he's drinking, and he's outwardly happy.

"Hey," Karin nods, approaching him with blatant skepticism. "Whatcha' doin'?"

"Oh, y'know," he gestures to the scene around them. "Just working on my golf skills."

"Uh huh..." She notes the pile of glass shards and liquid stains against the far wall, then meets his uncharacteristically goofy expression. "Missed you at school today."

"Yeah.." Placing the empty bottle on the floor, Toshiro elicits a quick swing of his club and sends it flying rapidly towards the opposing wall with an instant shatter. "I didn't feel like going today," he reasons offhandedly.

She gives him a calculative once over, "I can see that." Her attention soon shifts to the case of beer at his feet. "Where'd you get the beer?"

"I have the means to blackmail a certain liquor store owner if he doesn't give me what I want," he explains simply, then grabs a new bottle from the box. "You want one?"

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself," he mutters with a shrug and downs the bitter liquid as if he was on a short and strict time limit. And once the bottle was emptied, he places it on the floor in preparation for another swing; however, as her concern practically radiates, he's forced to sigh and meets her gaze, "Is there something you wanna say?"

"I should be asking you that."

" _Me?_ " he mocks, sending a rather aggressive hit at the bottle. "What could I  _possibly_  have to tell you?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Toshiro." She crosses her arms over her chest. "I know something's wrong."

Merely scoffing, he drops the golf club unceremoniously on the floor and goes for another beer, bitterness emanating as he chucked the cap across the room, just missing the trash bin.

She barely stifles a groan, "Why do you have to be so damn difficult all the time?"

"I'm difficult?" he echoes incredulously, cerulean eyes hardening as they meet her stern expression. Scoffing yet again, he brought the bottle's rim to his lips, "Says the most rigid girl I've ever met..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know what it means," he nearly spat, taking a bitter and spiteful swig of beer; and as she couldn't blame such a tactless comment on the alcohol, she settled with a caustic laugh.

"Nice, Toshiro.  _Real_  nice." Briskly turning on her heel, she proceeds to exit the room, and in a more melodramatic sense, his life. " _Jackass.._ "

However, the abrupt sound of shattering glass has her pausing at the door, all feelings of resentment and intentions of leaving casting off to oblivion once she regards his sudden aura of distress, calloused hands running through alabaster locks in an 'on the brink of breaking down' manner.

"Toshiro?"

He doesn't meet her eyes; he just stiffly - as not to stumble - walks towards her, presses a crinkled envelope to her chest, and leaves the room, permitting a curious Karin to read it's contents,

_Toshiro,_

_I request that you send my black and red fur coat to our London address as soon as possible. And please, make sure it's the authentic one, not the knock-off I got from eBay._

_-Kim_

_P.S. Send the matching handbag as well._

Instantly throwing the 'letter' in the nearby trash bin, Karin exits the room, hastily stalks up to a slow pacing Toshiro, and unhesitantly whacks him upside the head.

Shoulders tensing immediately, he shoots her an incredulous glare, "What the hell was that for?!"

"For being a drunken idiot!" she spat, rivaling his glower. "What did we establish last fall when those two bastards left you?"

"Uh..." he searched his intoxicated mind. "That they're a couple of bastards and I should figuratively 'fuck 'em'?"

"Exactly," she affirms, lips pulling up into a smile and hands finding their way to her hips, assuming that of an authority figure. "So stop being such a pitiful jackass and pull yourself together."

After a long moment of scrutiny, a grin twists his features so handsomely her heart skips a beat. "You should really consider being a counsellor," he remarks sarcastically, a warm chuckle weaving through his words.

"I should," she considers bluntly, "but considering how often I have to kick your ass and put a stop to your douchebaggery, I wouldn't have time for any other clients." He merely smirks in response. "Now, go shower." She begins an entrancing stride down the hallway. "And for god's sake, brush your teeth," she pleads with all seriousness. "I'm getting drunk off your breath alone."

Breaking focus from her seductively swaying backside, Toshiro chuckles, "Will you be joining me?" he asks in regards to his shower.

The  _slam_  of his bedroom door echoes a blunt 'no'. However, as that particular action assures him she wasn't leaving anytime soon, he feels his vexation dissipate completely and follows her orders - as per usual.

.

.

.

He enters his bedroom fifteen minutes later to find her lying on his bed, twirling long ebony tresses in her fingers as she studies the ceiling above her. She sits up into a cross-legged position once she notices his presence and meets his eyes, her own still holding a faint tinge of concern.

"How do you feel now?"

"Better," he vouches, slightly staggering to join her on the bed. "But. . . the room is spinning and the toothpaste made me nauseous."

"Well, it makes you bearable to talk to, at least," she remarks with a chuckle.

And despite how wonderful the sound was to him, his grin falters, eyes gleaming with repent as he casts her another glance. "Listen.. I'm so-'

"Don't." His forehead creased. "You've never apologized to me before," she answers his quizzical expression. "So don't bother starting now."

"Okay.." He chuckles lightly, inclining his head thoughtfully. Soon after, he casts her a bright-eyed look, "At least allow me to thank you."

"Of course," she accepts smugly, grinning.

Raising a hand, he brushes a dark mass of hair behind her ear, features twisting with affection, "You always know what to do.." Inciting a pink tinge as his thumb strokes her cheek, he smirks, "You should stay the night."

"Er.." Retracting his hand, Toshiro raises a white brow over purely innocent teal eyes, and with instant perception, she grins yet again, "You mean, like old times?" The implications of eating ice cream and watching the original  _Star Wars_  trilogy are heard.

He nods, "Just like old times."

"Okay," she agrees brightly and promptly skips to the door, leaving him amused. "I hope you have mint chocolate chip!"

* * *

She's addicted to him; she's admitted dependence but won't bother to help it.

Her care and love for him will never waver; even on their darkest days, she'll always be there, and he'll never leave.

Yet, she'll continue to search for that pair of non-existent scissors, the means of cutting herself loose, so that one day she can be free of his loving and distorting binds.

She never will be. But, she feigns ignorance at that; she'll always be bound to him, and deep down, she's at peace with it.

 

_._

_.all that time, wasted. I wish I was a little more delicate._

_._

 


	9. Entice;Refrain

 

His left hand travels along the racks of blazers and button up shirts, while his right hand holds a cardboard colour reference. He possesses a considerable amount of dress shirts, but none of them were this particular colour, and he had been ordered to dress the part. Which meant his shirt had to match her dress.

After nearly twenty minutes of searching the semi-small boutique, he finally finds what he's looking for, and with an inward sigh of relief, he folds the forest green shirt over his arm and makes his way towards the clerk. He halts halfway, however, when he catches sight of Karin lounging on the singular sofa as she twirls her ashy locks in her fingers and flips through what he notes to be a bridal magazine, prompting a short detour.

"When's the wedding?" he inquires in greeting as he comes up behind her, and with immediate regard of her best-boy-friend, Karin tosses the thick magazine to the side and casts him a grin over her shoulder,

"Right after 'fuck you' day."

He chuckles, almost coyly, "I hope that day is soon." She scowls playfully in response, and he was about to ask what she was doing there when a certain honey-blonde Kurosaki emerges from the adjacent dressing room, clad in a light yellow dress.

He nods in salutation, "Hey Yuzu." She casts him a glance, clearly surprised by his unexpected appearance, and the faintest scowl twists her dainty features.

"Toshiro," she greets in a synthetically kind tone, then turns to her sister and gestures to herself. "So, what do you think?"

"It's a winner," Karin drawls indifferently, and Yuzu pouts at her simplistic answer. "Just like the last ten dresses you've tried on; it's perfect," she adds with an exasperated sigh. "Now will you please just pick one already so we can leave?"

Yuzu just huffs in response and promptly begins sorting through her abundant pile of 'maybe' dresses in contemplation. Meanwhile, having decided to linger for the sake of ogling Karin just a little longer, Toshiro inquires: "Do you already have a dress?"

Karin merely snorts in reply and begins flipping through a tabloid disinterestedly, inciting Yuzu to answer for her, "Karin's not going to the dance."

"Oh?" he raises a brow.

"I've been trying for weeks to convince her to go," Yuzu vouches with a sigh. Then, as she finally decides on the pink dress and straightens up, she feels a sudden sense of acrimony waft through her, directly solely at her twin's proclaimed 'best-friend'. "But she won't because she doesn't have a _date_." Her all knowing eyes pierce Toshiro's, and he suddenly feels uncomfortable. "How about you, Toshiro? Do you have a date?"

He rivals her hard stare for the briefest moments of silence, then simply assumes his usual impassive demeanor. "My girlfriend's dragging me to it," he replies coolly, masking his awkwardness quite well.

"Right.." Yuzu nods, dazzling eyes rather scornful. "Momo, was it?" Her sweet voice drips with animosity, "I always forget that you two are together." Toshiro strains not to scowl or spit back a retort, and her smile is akin to a sneer. "She must be  _real_  special."

Not trusting his tone to sound sincere, he merely nods and forces a smile. He barely stifles a sigh of relief when she averts her attention back to her formal attire, and only dares to linger a moment longer before pronouncing his departure.

"Well, I suppose I should be going." At that, Karin breaks her blank focus from the 'celeb baby-bump' section and meets his gaze, teal depths dancing suggestively as he sends her a blush evoking grin, "I'll see you later."

She unwittingly mirrors his visage. "See you later."

Karin waits till he's out of sight before directing a hard and reprimanding glare at her sister, to which Yuzu shrugs innocently before suddenly exclaiming, "Oh! That dress is pretty!" and skipping past her sister, steadfast towards yet another rack of colourful ensembles.

In a manner of deflation, Karin reclines her head on the back of the sofa and lets out yet another aggravated sigh; she really hates shopping.

* * *

It's the following Friday night, right before the holidays, that prides are piqued and the game is in full swing - at the Winter Formal.

Toshiro and Hinamori dance out of obligation, as they must project that of two teenagers in love, when in truth, they are two almost-friends who should've never gotten together in the first place; while their minds are focused elsewhere.

It's when the third slow song ends and they gladly pull apart that he sees the subject of his thoughts, and his heart skips violently with joy. She'd claimed she wasn't coming, yet here she was, clad in a deep violet dress with tights and her hair in a one-sided braid, practically gleaming with allure; she meets his gaze briefly, a smirk undoubtedly painting her features, then continues alongside her sister to the far side of the grand hall. And he has to strain not to pursue her, as it was too soon.

He eyes her for the following hour, however, as he commits the image of her in something other than jeans and a tshirt or her school uniform to memory. Then, once the magnetic pull becomes too strong to resist, he leaves his circle of rather annoying peers and approaches her at a leisurely pace.

"Nothing good on TV tonight?" he presumes as he comes up beside her at the refreshment table and takes a cup of punch for the sake of looking casual.

"Nothing but reruns," Karin claims with a falsely-dejected sigh, taking a cup of punch for herself. "And since my only means of having fun decided to attend this god awful event, I had no choice but to come." Her narrow shoulders rise noncommittally, lips pulling up into a grin. "Besides, how could I pass up the chance to have Yuzu apply a bunch of gunk to my eyes and put me in a dress that I'm  _pretty sure_  she bought for me in eighth grade."

He merely smirks, joining her as she gives herself a once over, and a scowl soon paints her face. "I feel ridiculous..."

Promptly, Toshiro takes the opportunity to charm her. "Well," he drawls, as if pretending to consider what he mentally declared from the moment he saw her. "I think you look beautiful."

Grateful he couldn't see her blush in this particular lighting, she merely chuckles in response and reflexively regards his ensemble of blacks slacks, deep green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and a black vest. "You don't look too bad yourself," she remarks coyly.

"Are you kidding?" he mocks bluntly, radiating intentional smugness. "I'm downright entrancing."

A not so subtle snort is her response as she sips her beverage, and he only manages a warm chuckle in return before they're joined by a third party. "Hey Karin," the slightly taller and dark-haired boy greets with a rather timid grin, then nods to Toshiro in afterthought, "Captain."

He merely nods in return, whilst Karin captures the man's anxious gaze once more, "Hey Lee, what's up?"

"Um.." Toshiro eyes their fellow soccer player with piercing expectation, an indiscernible feeling twisting in his chest, and Lee continues to fumble, not even heeding the other man's essential glower as he strains not to sputter. "I was just wondering if you, um.. wanted to dance with me?" Karin raises a faintly surprised brow, prompting him to quickly add: "Unless you have someone waiting for you...?"

She shakes her head, "Nope." Casting Toshiro an inconspicuous glance, her mouth curves slyly - provocatively. "I'm single."

Toshiro scowls after the retreating pair and quickly downs his cup of clearly spiked punch, then proceeds back to his previous group's table. Only to have a clear view of Karin and Lee, who were dancing in a proximity too close for his liking.

He and Hinamori had already reached their dancing quota, but out of contempt, he asks her to dance yet again. And it only takes her a moment to register why before she accepts with inward reluctance.

This goes on for an hour; dancing with their partners just yards away from one another, Karin and Toshiro continue the silent battle of twisted love. Her features will be set in a coveting scowl while his will be set in a spiteful smirk, and despite being in an over-crowded gymnasium, the only people they see and care about are each other; but it lacks in the romantic sense. It's vindictive, scheming, and overall, heartbreaking to those involved. Yet, they ignore it, as they've trained themselves to do for the sake of the game, and carry out their low-key retaliations with a bitter passion.

It's nearing the end of this rather hostile event when Karin ups the scale and places an affectionate kiss on her partner's neck, her eyes drifting once again to Toshiro with blatant challenge. It evokes a fire in his heart, and without an ounce of compassion, he leans down to whisper in his partner's ear: "Movie scene kiss."

"Movie scene kiss," Momo affirms.

Karin's heart sinks pitifully as she witnesses the kiss, unaware of it's falsehood, and she feels overwhelming jealousy vibrate through her. He returns her malicious gleam soon after, reflecting kindred challenge, and she retaliates by way of whispering something no doubt suggestive in Lee's ear.

Toshiro's eyes harden fiercely as he minds the other man's sudden change of expression, and feels crushing envy erupt in his chest when Karin doesn't even bother to grant him one last look before she begins leading her partner out of the gymnasium to go god knows where - he didn't even want to know; yet he desperately did.

Momo's gaze follows his, a smirk playing her lips as she notes Karin and Lee's departure. "So... her: one; you: zero?"

"The count's higher than that..." he mutters distantly and retracts himself. He met her eyes briefly, "Do you have a drive home?" She merely nods, eliciting a 'Mhm', and without further delay, he proceeds towards the other exit, both defeat and remorse twisting in his gut.

.

.

.

His anger dissipates once he arrives home, almost trips over a pair of heels in the foyer, and notes the familiar coat draped over the staircase banister. He lets his own coat and vest join the unmistakable jacket on his way up to the second floor, where he's drawn to the yellow beam of light leaking through the crack in his bedroom door.

Upon pushing the slightly ajar door open fully, his heart skips and an instant smile spreads; there she was, front and center, sitting at the edge of his bed with one leg crossed over the other, an enthralling smirk painted on her face.

Shutting the door out of unnecessary habit, Toshiro shoves his hands in his pockets, feigning indifference. "Breaking and entering is a crime, you know," he greets in his own abnormal way, the underside of his shoes ghosting the hardwood floor as he approaches her.

"Not when you have a key," Karin argues with a chuckle, leaning back on her hands.

He smirks, "I might have to take that back from you."

She gasps in mock-anguish, "You _wouldn't_."

Stifling the incentive to chuckle at her antic, he summons a slightly bitter tone, "What are you doing here?" She simply shrugs in response. "Or rather, where's your boy toy?"

His new found resentment towards Lee is rather amusing, she muses, and elicits yet another shrug, "I dunno." Sliding further up the bed, she displays that of a come-hither pose and facet, "I had him drop me off around the block and bid goodnight."

"Oh really.." Lowering himself down on the bed, he trails his hand along her leg and climbs on top of her, not bothering to hide his glee in regards to her essentially ditching Lee for him, "Not 'the one', huh?"

"Nah... he's  _far_  too kind."

Snuggly encased between her thighs, he props himself up on one elbow and eyes her almost playfully, "What are you implying?"

"Nothing you're not already aware of," she assures simply.

Merely smirking in response, he begins to nip the nape of her neck. "What would you have done if I had company?" he questions curiously, his cool breath billowing on her neck inciting sensual goosebumps.

"Probably would've played the part of 'crazy drunk girl' and ran away," she supposes aloud, straining to remain collected as his chuckle stimulates shivers along her fevered skin, rousing her desire even further.

"I guess you're lucky my date was feeling sick." She grins as he does her the kindness of not pronouncing Hinamori's name.

"The stars have aligned just for me," she says sarcastically.

"Those must be some fucked up stars."

"This is  _us_  were talking about," she reasons with a coquettish gleam, and the grin he casts upon her in response is far too tantalizing to handle anymore; capturing his bottom lip with her teeth, she eagerly pulls him into euphoria. And he doesn't resist; embracing the only lips he's kissed since the middle of September with his own, he continues to break and mend her heart, one kiss at a time.

Eventually, he rises to his knees and pulls her tights off, to which she merely giggles as she kicks her legs in assistance, and he soon comes to a conclusion: tights are a nuisance.

Tossing the irritating garment aside, he smooths his hands up her thighs and grasps her hips, drawing her firmly against him once more. Their lips are ecstatic with fluttering hearts and stimulating heat waves, and she soon hears that imaginative  _crack_  in her resolve echo through the still and empty house.

It was too soon, but perhaps she'd avoided his touch for too long, and now it's just coming back to bite her at an overwhelming level.

His lips persist as he continues to pin her against the mattress, claiming dominance, and her lips curve upwards as she soaks in his presence, permitting his sovereignty. ' _Just a little longer_ ,' - she resolves; the four words of which she finds always flow through her mind with every kindred exploit roaring in her ears, demanding she carry on.

She feels him grow hard against her - she can practically hear his heart racing, begging him to push further. Yet, he is steady and his caresses remain nothing but gentle, with just the right amount of vehemence. It amazes her, how he can be so reserved after four months of constant foreplay and relentless teasing, that he never pushes too far or grips too hard, and it makes her feel safe.

Too safe; and it almost has her giving in... Almost.

Without warning, she rolls him onto his back and clambers on top, taking back the reins with winsome grinds of her pelvis and engaging arches of her back, whilst he lets her conduct with nothing but delight. She bites bruises into his lips, kisses them till they're numb, and doesn't stop, even as they swell; she radiates fervor with every nip and touch, a sensation of which he incites with greedy caresses beneath the confines of her dress and none too gentle retaliation to her vehement lips, his mind clouding with lust.

She titillates him to the very brink of ripping her clothes off, and then, suddenly, she retracts completely.

"Goodnight, Toshiro," she whispers raspily in his ear, the tug her teeth administer at his earlobe akin to that of a needle poking his balloon of excitement, sending it to immediate deflation.

However, even as he rivals her sly gleam with a deep scowl, he can't help but admire her continuous refrain, despite her obvious feelings of opposition; he was almost envious, as his own restraint was beginning to dwindle. And once she turns her back to him, having taken brief residence at the edge of the bed to free her hair from it's now-messy braid, he brisky comes up behind her, refusing to let her have the upper hand this time.

Brushing the tangled mane of dark hair over her left shoulder, he grasps her zipper's tab with his thumb and forefinger, intending to pull it down for her in a purely innocent manner - with only a twinge of possessiveness. "Help yourself to anything in my closet," he offers, his tone as husky and seductive as ever, and her heart flutters with unmitigated desire as his hand travels along her spine whilst he unzips her dress.

Shifting to get up, he plants a gentle kiss at the nape of her neck, nipping the flesh just hard enough to incite a quickened heart beat. Then, he swiftly moves around her and proceeds to the door. "I'll be down the hall," Toshiro announces coolly, briefly halting in the ajar entryway to cast her one last, charming glance, "if you need anything."

Karin waits until the door closes before exhaling a ragged breath, and her features immediately twist into a pink-tinged scowl. "Damn him..."

_._

_.I'm the snake waiting for you, dear. And eventually you'll come to me, I know you will._

_._


	10. Tension

 

The morning after Winter Formal is a strange one for Toshiro Hitsugaya. Not exactly  _bizarre_ , but different, in regards to him not being alone.

Rousing to the sounds of laughter and the aromas of what he assumes to be pancakes, he bolts up in bed, almost alarmingly. It's not just Karin's laughter, he deduces soon after, but another woman's as well; he can't quite distinguish it, but it's familiar. A particular voice octave he'd been accustomed to in the past. And with a curious sense, he leaves the comforts of the guest bed and exits the room.

He follows the joyful disturbance all the way downstairs to the kitchen, where he immediately halts in the entryway, teal eyes broadening with surprise as he regards the scene before him; in company of Karin, clad in his t-shirt and sweatpants as she sits on the counter, is the second most vibrant woman he'd ever encountered - his cousin.

"Rangiku?"

Promptly, the strawberry-blonde swivelled around, long mane of curly hair whipping behind her shoulders and light-blue eyes going wide as saucers with excitement. "Cousin!" she squeals with enthuse, wasting no time closing the distance to suffocate him in her barely concealed chest. "I haven't seen you in forever~!"

"Eight years is hardly forever," he argues, his curt tone muffled by the current predicament, and his face contorts to a deeply displeased scowl as he attempts to free himself from her crushing embrace.

However, Rangiku is unyielding, hugging him for as long as she sees fit; he gasps for breath when she releases him a minute later and promptly shoots her an angry glare - to which she simply ignores as she places her hands on his bare shoulders, "Oh my, Cousin!" she sings, giving him a once over. "You've grown into a man! I never thought it would happen-' Karin chuckles at his expense, serving to deepen his scowl, '-but here you are, nearly five and a half feet!"

He deadpans, "Children do tend to grow, Rangiku."

She merely giggles, then suddenly, her expression becomes awed once again, "And you have abs!" she observes with both incredulity and pride. "Where'd you get those?!"

Recoiling from her scrutiny, he retrieves the zip-up sweater slung over a nearby chair. "What are you doing here?" he questions, concealing himself within the hoodie and crossing his arms over his chest, suspicion painting his features.

"Making breakfast at the moment!" she says happily, then gestures to the girl behind her, "And of course, getting acquainted with your lovely girlfriend."

At that, a scowl twists Karin's features. "I'm not his girlfriend," she counters blandly, directing her gaze to her swinging feet.

The bitterness in the girl's practical mumble certainly drew Rangiku's curiosity, but when she steals a quizzical glance at her cousin, she receives nothing but a slightly remorseful scowl, teal eyes straying almost wistfully to Karin's falsely indifferent self.

"Well," she breaks the tension - supposedly, "'friends with benefits', then." Referenced 'friends' both deadpanned, yet, only Karin had the modesty to blush. "Either way, a girl's gotta eat!" The blonde soon busied herself with ushering Karin off the counter and pushing her towards the dining room. "I'm sure the events of last night have you absolutely famished!"

Face flushing completely, Karin whips around and begins waving her hands in front of her rather frantically, sputtering an argument, "It-it's not like that, really! We're just friends-!'

"There's no point in lying to her, Karin," Toshiro interjects as he passes them by on his way to the dining room table - far too coolly for her liking, "she knows all."

Agreement paints Rangiku's features by way of a bright smile. "Now, you two just sit and chat, and breakfast will be served in a jiffy!"

Karin waits until the older woman disappears across the hall before directing a chideful glare at Toshiro, to which he simply cocks a brow. "What?" Her intensified glower spoke the words, and his shoulders rose with indifference, tone as cool as ever, "It's not like she wouldn't have realized it eventually; she's very perceptive when it comes to these situations."

"'These situations'?" she repeats quizzically, taking her seat across from him.

"Yeah," he shrugged yet again, leaning back in his chair. "You know, relationships and whatnot.." Not a second later, question twisted his features, "Why do you care if she knows about us, anyway?"

"Because it's embarrassing!" she practically hissed, cheeks tinging once more; the affronted look he gave her had her eliciting a scoff, "Oh, don't act like cheating on your girlfriend with your best-friend 'cause you're too much of a coward to choose isn't shaming for you."

"Don't make this sound like some facile love-triangle from some daytime soap opera," he pleads flatly, evading her statement with arrogance. "Because it's not."

"Oh?" Two thin brows raise with dubious intent, and her slender arms fold atop the table. "What would you call it, then?"

"I'd say it's more..." he pretends to mull it over, "Two best-friends playing out a rather complex game of who can fuck the other first." Toshiro rivals her reprised and magnified glower with that of a challenging gleam.

"You know, I was this close," she creates an inch of space between her thumb and forefinger, "to letting you win." She summons a dreamy-esque tone, "But then you go and say such sweet words, and I'm reminded of how much I want to beat you," she finishes curtly.

He smirks, "Good luck with that." The confidence that she'd give in first was all too palpable in his words and haughtily charming facet, and only served to fuel her indignation, as well as her dire urge to jump him right then and there. However, before she could do either, Rangiku placed a large plate of strange looking pancakes down between them, along with a tray of the necessary condiments for such a meal.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," she practically sang; it was clear she'd been eavesdropping.

"Nope," Karin assures simply and sticks her fork into the top three pancakes, slapping them none too collectively on her plate. "That would require two lovers to be present."

An almost irate scoff escapes Toshiro, yet he says nothing and merely ushers his own portion of pancakes onto his plate, leaving the last three for Rangiku. However, the busty blonde was far too interested in the two teenagers before her to care about eating.

"So," she begins airily, clasping her hands together as she rests her elbows on the table. "What's new?"

"Other than your cousin being one of the most sought after bastards in Karakura, nothing much."

" _The_  most," Toshiro corrects flatly.

Karin's chuckle is akin to a jeer, "Oh, I forgot to add 'conceited asshole'. My bad."

"Wow," he mocks in return. "I'm wounded."

"And you're about to be unconscious."

"You know, sometimes I wonder why I have yet to make you my girlfriend," he vouches, voice ringing sincere acrimony. "But then you go and say such sweet words, and I'm reminded of how much I don't want to date a rigid bitch."

Murderous intent twists Karin's otherwise beautiful features, prompting the oldest of the three to intervene, "Let's talk about me!" They give sounds of acknowledgement, yet continue to glare at each other, neither willing to admit the small defeat. "Well, first off, I'm getting married-'

"What?" Toshiro's attention instantly shot to his cousin, eyes incredulous. "You're getting married?" She merely nods. "To who?"

"Gin Ichimaru," she declares jovially, features bright as ever. And before Toshiro could open his mouth to ask who this 'Gin' guy was, Karin spoke the word he should have said first,

"Congratulations!"

"Thank you!" Rangiku squeals, and on reflex, thrusts her ring finger into the younger girl's personal space. To which Karin, though she'd never been one for jewelry, couldn't help but admire.

"It's so pretty.." The bride-to-be nods enthusiastically. "When's the wedding?" Karin questions a moment later, meeting the woman's excited gleam.

"This coming summer!" Rangiku exclaimed, then raised her arms in gesture to both teens as she added, "And of course, you two are invited!"

Animosity fills the air once again; a smirk plays Karin's lips as she meets his hardened teal gaze, "I'm sure Momo will be thrilled."

"Momo?" Rangiku echos quizzically, eyes darting to and fro. "Who's Momo?"

"She does love weddings," Toshiro concurs, ignoring his cousin's inquiry. "The question is; which of our fellow teammates will you be bringing?"

Karin doesn't hesitate, "Lee, most likely." His scowl deepens, fueling a spark of amusement inside her. "He is a great kisser, after all."

His fists clench. "You didn't kiss him."

"You sure about that?" she argues coolly, expression unreadable; his agitation heightens.

However, despite the rippling jealousy in his chest, he remains collected in his retort, "Quite." She raises her brows yet again, begging elaboration. To which he gladly complies, "considering how quickly you came running back to me last night."

Her lips form a tight line as she, for once in her life, cannot think of a comeback, and she suddenly feels the urge to escape his enchanting and victorious gaze. "Thanks a lot for breakfast, Rangiku," Karin announces, abruptly rising from the table with an all too perceptive air of enmity. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I really must be going."

"Er.." the blonde could only furrow her brow and flick her wrist in a half-hearted wave as the girl makes a hasty retreat from the room. "Bye.."

"Come back soon," Toshiro might as well have sang, and Karin's shoulders noticeably tense as she pauses in the doorway for the briefest of seconds, then quickly disappears. Rangiku shoots her callous cousin a reprimanding glare before following the girl's lead out of the dining room, and they soon commune in the foyer where Karin was currently putting on her heels.

"Oh, honey.." Karin's dark and partially hurt gaze meets Rangiku's almost sympathetic light-blue, and the blonde shakes her head, "No, no, no," she clicks her tongue disapprovingly. "You look like a cross between a hobo and a girl doing the walk of shame."

"..."

"Come on," Rangiku nods to the stairs, "let me at least dress you properly."

"Er.." Karin gives the woman an apprehensive once over, "I don't really think I'm your size.."

"Not  _my_  clothes, silly!" The blonde giggles. "I'm a fashion designer; I actually just came from a show in Tokyo, so I have  _tons_  of clothes for you to choose from."

"Oh.." Karin considers this briefly, then simply shrugs and kicks off her heels. "Okay. If you insist."

.

.

.

Fifteen minutes later, Karin, now clad in a pair of black slacks and a rather elegant tank top, ascends the stairs to the foyer with the reprised intention of leaving. But of course, she's intercepted by Toshiro; now dressed and groomed to an irresistible degree, he casually loiters at the bottom of the stairs.

A scowl twists her features yet again.

"Don't you look stunning," he remarks, too charming for her liking.

She gives him a once over. "Likewise; is that from the 'Pompous Jackass' collection?"

"Oh, come on," he probes, as if he'd forgotten the previous feat. "You're not honestly mad at me, are you?"

"Of course not," she confirms in a synthetically sweet tone, as if she'd forgotten he knew better than to buy it. He promptly frowns, gaze almost repentful as he watches her put on her shoes. "Well," she sighs, donning her coat once again as she proceeds to the door, "I'll be seein' ya."

In one stride, he places a hand on hers, halting her in the process of turning the doorknob. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he prompts, feigning ignorance to her glower as he raises an expectant brow.

Mouth curling indignantly, "Yeah, actually.." Reeling back, Karin quickly drives her fist into his left cheek, sending him staggering back a step, and exits the house with a none too friendly slamming of the door.

"Should've expected that.." he mutters, cupping the side of his face with one hand as he moves his jaw around; lingering in the foyer, Toshiro nurses his newly punched cheek and mentally counts down -  _Three... Two... One..._

On cue, the front door flies open and Karin takes two quick strides towards him, aggressively grasps his face in her hands, and crushes his lips to hers. He nearly topples over at the force, despite having essentially predicted her return, but is saved from such a fate as his back meets the wooden banister behind him, and he promptly wraps his arms around her, subjecting her to a good feel whilst returning the less than gentle kiss with heightened avidity of his own.

She bites the bitter thought  _'I love you'_  into his bottom lip before drawing back, leaving him eager for more as she wordlessly leaves the house, slamming the door behind her more ceremoniously than before. And although she left a lot sooner than he preferred, a smirk paints his features, almost triumphantly.

"Alright." Broken from his trance soon after, he swivels on the spot to regard Rangiku, who has her arms crossed over her chest and an uncharacteristically stern look on her face. "Explain."

_._

_.a kiss with a fist is better than none._

_._


	11. Fickle

 

"Is my cousin always that painstakingly blunt?" Rangiku questions as she leads her new favourite teenage girl down the hallway.

"Yep," Karin affirms bluntly. "And he's only getting worse with age."

The strawberry-blonde just giggles in response, not the least bit surprised, and soon opens a door to their left, already having an 'I own the place' air about her as she enters the largest of the guest rooms, the younger girl in tow.

Noting the numerous mounds of springtime fashion strewn about the room, Karin's eyes broaden slightly in awe, "You weren't kidding."

"I never 'kid' about clothes, my dear." Closing the door behind them, Rangiku proceeds to the far side of the room. "Come, come," she goads with a wave of her hand, and soon bends over to rummage through a bin of colourful blouses.

"Hmmm..." Holding a long-sleeved violet shirt up beside the girl, Rangiku gives her a brief and calculative once over, then frowns. "You're so puny.." she remarks blandly and tosses the shirt aside, resuming her search. "Has he not been feeding you properly?"

Karin chuckles. "I'm pretty sure he can cook mac 'n' cheese blindfolded thanks to me."

Rangiku casts her a faintly surprised smile. "I never took him for the cooking type," she says, her thought train crashing into the image of her bratty little cousin actually  _cooking_  - apron and all.

"One of us has to do it," Karin reasons with a shrug. "And I don't think he wants his house burnt down anytime soon."

Repressing the urge to comment on how cute they were, the woman merely giggles, and upon choosing a partially lacy white tank-top, she goes on a search for pants. "Alright," Rangiku begins a minute later, assuming an (unorthodox)mother-like tone, "just so I can say that I said it; I hope you two are being safe."

Brow creasing, Karin shoots the woman a quizzical look. "What?"

"You know," Rangiku starts matter-of-factly. "Condoms, birth control, all that necessary nonsense."

"Oh.." A sense of idiocy befalls her. "Uh," she scratches her head, expression twisting sheepishly. "We don't really need that-'

"And don't give me the whole 'pull out at the last second' or 'what goes up must come down' spiels, 'cause those are myths."

"..."

Suddenly, Rangiku connects the dots; with the girl's new ensemble in her grasp, she approaches the teen with a quizzical quirk of her brow. "You haven't...?" Karin merely shakes her head, blatantly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, and the blonde feels a spur of confusion at the rather surprising admittance - was her intuition failing her already?

"Huh..." Deciding to leave it at that, she hands the bundle of clothes to Karin. "Here, try these on."

Still intuitive enough to predict Karin asking her to turn around, Rangiku turns her back to the girl and studies the wall, musings of painting the entire room dancing about in her mind. Meanwhile, Karin quickly, and rather reluctantly, changes out of Toshiro's comfy clothes and into the rather fancy ensemble she'd been given; it's merely a pair of black slacks and a tank-top, but she can practically feel the high-value as the pants' tag scratches her hip.

"Okay," she announces a minute later. And as soon as Rangiku swivels around and regards her appearance, her eyes go as wide as they had earlier that morning upon seeing her cousin.

"You're so cute~!" she squeals happily and begins suffocating Karin in her large bosom, swaying her small frame from side to side as if she were a doll and making the reason Toshiro had been so angry earlier all too clear.

Karin's body nearly gives out once she's released from the embrace that was so frighteningly like her father's - minus the large breasts - and, as if oblivious to the near-death experience she'd caused, Rangiku places her hands on her hips, grinning brightly. "You can keep those, by the way."

"Really?" Rangiku merely nods, considering it as compensation for the not so enjoyable breakfast, and Karin's lips pull up into a broad smile, beaming at the woman, "Thanks." A nonchalant wave of the woman's manicured hand is all she receives. "Alright, well, I gotta get going," she proceeds to the door, flicking her wrist in a whole-hearted wave. "See you later."

"Tootles," Rangiku sing-songs. Then, only a minute after the girl disappears, she summons her stealth card and ventures out of the room, following Karin's trail only so far as the end of the hallway, where she nosily leans on the banister and overlooks the parting interaction between the two teenagers below.

She just barely stifles a fit of laughter when her cousin's face is aggressively assaulted, instead committing the scene to play-by-play memory. And she was about to retreat to her room, deeming the entertainment over, when the abrupt reappearance of Karin causes her to linger. The following scene has Rangiku feeling as if she's watching the ending to an epic romance film, given how their love for one another practically radiates, and she ultimately feels herself become more puzzled. So when the girl leaves once again, this time for good, the busty blonde quickly descends the stairs.

"Alright," she draws her cousin's attention, crossing her arms over her ample chest and evoking her most stern expression. "Explain."

"If you insist," Toshiro replies offhandedly, promptly proceeding down the hall to the kitchen. "But first, you have to tell me why you're here."

"I just wanted to visit my favourite cousin!" she exclaims jovially, skipping along behind him.

"I'm your only cousin," he argues bluntly, grabbing an ice-pack from the freezer.

"And that's why you're so special to me!" Rangiku reasons happily as she hops up on one of the bar stools. He merely rolls his eyes, wincing with gritted teeth as he presses the ice-pack to his bruising cheek.

"I have a few weeks off," she elaborates, leisurely folding her arms on the countertop. "And since I was already in the country, I figured I'd pop in."

"Uh huh.."

"Why must you be so suspicious?!" A brow raise was all he managed before she caved on her own accord. "Fine; I need a place to stay."

"Why?"

"Well..." she considers for a moment. "You see, Gin and I are buying a house this fall, and we also want to save some extra money for the wedding, and considering both our jobs require constant travel, neither of us are really at the apartment much.. and there's only about six months until the wedding.. so.. I just figured we could move in with you, for the time being." His silence had her worrying. "You don't mind, do you?"

There was a few moments of quietude before he finally replied; "As long as you respect my privacy, I don't care what you do." But despite his efforts to seem indifferent, his buoyancy at the news is well perceived.

"And don't you dare hug me," he asserts a moment later, having caught the readying shift of her form out of his peripheral. "That's a rule."

"Okay," she giggles in congruence, settling back into her seat. There's a pregnant pause between them before she breaks the silence once again, her expression twisting guiltily. "Listen, Toshiro," His attention was drawn instantly, as she'd never addressed him by his name until now, and he promptly meets her suddenly atoning facet. "I'm sorry I didn't come see you sooner." His brow creased slightly. "I mean, I heard about your parents' surprise trip to Europe several months ago, and I meant to come right away, but I had a really tight schedule, and-'

"It's fine," he assures her, simply and truthfully.

Yet, she doesn't yield. "But I should've been here for you," Rangiku persists, too guilt ridden to heed his blatant forgiveness. "I mean, you must've been so lonely-'

"No," he interjects yet again, the essence of a smile twisting his features. "Karin was here."

The look in his eyes at the very notion of the girl has Rangiku's train of thought doing a 180, and she can't hold it in any longer. "You guys are cute." Toshiro merely scoffs and adjusts his ice-pack. "And intriguing as well," she continues slyly. "I won't even have to turn on the television to get good drama." He just shook his head at her, not enjoying the comparison of his life to a soap-opera.

"And now that we're back on the subject," her expression became stern once more. "Explain."

.

.( appearance of the fox-grinned fiance ).

.

Toshiro's never been accustomed to waking up before sunrise and opening presents on Christmas, and he's grown to like it that way. However, this year, he would've preferred that scenario.

Waking up at half-past eleven in the morning, he makes his way downstairs, destination being the kitchen, where he would happily indulge in various foods to abate his resonant hunger. But when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, his plan for nourishment is pushed aside, as it would seem the custom of 'presents' had been replaced by a trail of both men and women's clothing, and in his sleepy haze, he thoughtlessly follows.

And he immediately regrets this decision when his eyes fall victim to two naked adults lounging intimately on his living room sofa.

He freezes for the briefest of moments; then time and situation hits him like a boomerang and he frantically scrambles to vacate the room - resulting in him bashing his forehead against the wall and collectively drawing the attention of his nude relative.

"Cousin!" Rangiku exclaims worriedly, shifting to get up. "Are you okay?!"

"No!" He holds up a repelling hand, keeping his eyes both shut and averted. "Don't get up!"

Watching her cousin stumble out of the room with a hand cupped over his no doubt scuffed forehead, Rangiku grins in both amusement and pity. "Oops.." She meets the light-blue gaze of her fiance. "I forgot he was here..."

Simply 'tsking' in response with an unwavered grin, they both go about dressing themselves and venture to the kitchen, where Toshiro sits at the counter with a bottle of water in his grasp, as he was too sickened by the previous scene to eat.

He shoots them an immediate scowl. "I really liked that couch, you know."

Rangiku giggles, "I'm sorry, 'Cuz." He merely grunts in response, whilst she casually ushers her fiance along with her. "This is Gin, as I'm sure you've realized." Another grunt sounds. "And Gin, this is my cousin, Toshiro."

"Nice to meet ya," Gin says so jovially it creeps the younger man out, and offers a slim hand of greeting - to which Toshiro just glares, inciting instant retraction. "Right.."

"How's your head?" Rangiku asks a moment later as she and Gin lean over the counter from the opposing side.

Toshiro's scowl deepened, "As scarred as my mind."

"Oh," she waves her hand nonchalantly, "don't be so dramatic."

"Oh,  _I'm sorry_ ," he feigns an 'all good' vibe. "I guess I'm just a little upset that I recently walked in on two grown adults, one of which I'm related to, fornicating in my living room," he finishes darkly; his cold tone could send shivers down anyone's spine. But not Gin and Rangiku's, whose grins remain ever present and amused, only serving to fuel Toshiro's agitation.

"You know, when I said I wanted my privacy, I didn't mean you couldn't have yours," he says flatly. "You do have a room, you know."

"Yeah, but it's  _upstairs_ ," Rangiku pouts exaggeratedly. "And we haven't seen each other in nearly a month! Do you really expect us to climb all those stairs just to get it on?!"

"Yes," he affirms bluntly. "That's exactly what I expect you to do."

The blonde rolls her eyes, disregarding the current conversation completely. "Sorry about him," she repents to the older man. "I think he's just a little antsy 'cause he hasn't gotten laid yet." If it were possible, Toshiro's glare would've magnified.

Rangiku then casts him a matter-of-fact look. "Which wouldn't be an issue if you would just break up with Momo officially and finally claim Karin." She giggles with the confident addition, "She'd fuck you in a heartbeat."

"Wait," Gin intervenes not a second later. "Yer sayin' he has  _two_  girlfriends and he's still a virgin?" Snickering lightly, he meets the younger man's glare, "What the hell's the matter with ya?"

"You two at the moment," he mutters in reply; sliding off his stool, Toshiro tosses the empty water bottle in a nearby bin and proceeds to exit the room.

"Well you see, it's this game they've-'

"Rangiku?" Toshiro addresses suddenly, pivoting half a degree to face her, and she merely raises her brows in an 'all attention' manner. "Do you like living here?" he questions in an even tone, despite his overflowing anger.

"Of course!" she says happily. "I love it here!"

"Good," he accedes with a falsified smile. "Then shut up about my personal life, or you'll be homeless." Her eyes broaden the size of saucers with incredulity, and Toshiro just resumes his departure, uncaring.

"And please,' he calls back coolly. "Replace the couch."

Snapping from her trance almost as soon as she'd succumbed to it, Rangiku waves to his retreating figure. "Will do Cuz'!" Then adds enthusiastically, "Hey! Do you wanna come out to breakfast with us?!"

"No," came his short reply, having already begun ascending the stairs.

Pouting instantly, Rangiku elicits a  _hmph_.

"Well," Gin begins, shedding both sarcasm and admiration with his tone. "Ain't he delightful."

* * *

Karin had doubled over in laughter when he recounted his previous morning's events, and his face had immediately contorted to a deep scowl, despite how amusing he found her to be.

"It's not funny," Toshiro says gruffly.

"It's very funny," she argues happily, finally stifling her giggles and wiping the joyful tears from her eyes. He merely grunts, arms folding over his chest childishly. "Oh, don't be like that," she says with another chuckle, bouncing on the sofa cushion beside him. "At least you got a new couch out of it."

"I liked the old one better," he practically whines. "This one will take forever to wear in."

"Well.." Tone dropping to a lewd octave, she casts him a suggestive look. "Let's get started on that, shall we?"

Several minutes of 'wearing in the couch' later, "What?" Rangiku jeers from the doorway. "You two can make out on the couch but Gin and I aren't allowed to have sex on it?"

Toshiro just sighs at how faulty her remark is, as the two acts contrast on a vast scale, then replies coolly: "My house, my rules."

.

.( excerpt of a drunken New Year's Eve ).

.

Gin had left two days after Christmas for another business trip, much to Toshiro's joy and Rangiku's disdain. Toshiro had thoughtlessly confirmed Karin's assumption that Hinamori would be joining him on New Year's Eve, much to his near-instant regret and her blatant disappointment. Which left the two previously estranged cousins alone, together, in the presence of a plate of nachos and several bottles of liquor, watching holiday specials in the living room.

She'd recounted the day she met Gin, along with several other comical memories, while Toshiro kept his suspicions and dislike in regard of his future cousin-in-law to himself. He'd remained relatively quiet, only offering blunt remarks here and there as she reminisced and granting her with very little information about his life, of which Rangiku understood, as he'd never been the 'sharing' type, even when they were younger.

However, she couldn't help voicing a seemingly simple question in regards to her cousin's love life - a twisted one it may be - and it was as answer she would remember quite well, despite her inebriated state.

"Aren't you even the least bit worried that you're gonna break her heart?" she eventually asks.

Toshiro doesn't meet her eyes, his own relatively glued to the television as it broadcasts the party at Time's Square, and simply replies, "No." Although, he can still see her brow furrow skeptically out of his peripheral, prompting him to add in pure honesty: "If anyone's heart gets broken in this, it'll be mine."

.

.( attack of the big-breasted models ).

.

On the third Friday in January, Toshiro arrives home from school, seemingly alone, and promptly ventures to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He abruptly halts in the entryway, however, when he regards the group of female adults occupying his chairs and bar stools. Their hair colours range from brilliant aqua, unfathomable orange, bright yellow, and lastly, familiar strawberry-blonde; and they all have one prominent aspect in common - very large breasts. Which have his eyes broadening in fear - yes,  _fear._

"Cousin!" Rangiku bounds towards him faster than he can depart, and his fear immediately comes true when he's brought into a suffocating embrace, his now scowling face being squished in her ample chest as she swings him from side to side and ignores his muffled protests for a good thirty-seconds.

He's prompt to glare at her once he's released. "What did I tell you about hugging me?!" he fumes, tone only slightly higher than usual and clearly doing nothing to faze her.

"Uh.." she taps a finger to her chin, "not to do it..?" Shrugging indifferently, she ushers him further into the room. "Ladies," she addresses her colourful and curvaceous friends, "this is my cousin, Toshiro. And Cousin, this is Nelliel, Orihime, and Halibel, my models for the new line and my closest friends."

"He's so cute!" the woman he'd noted to be Nelliel squeals before he can even say anything, and he's soon brought into yet another crushing embrace, to which he languidly yields, face twisting into a deep scowl yet again.

Drawing back a not a minute later, Nelliel cups his scowling face in her hands and gives him a thorough once over. "And handsome too," she remarks with a broad grin and finally drops her hands to her hips. "If only I were six years younger, right?"

"And not married to Grimmjow," the woman he'd noted to be Orihime adds.

"Oh," Nel waves a nonchalant hand. "It's okay to have hot high schooler on the side."

"No, it isn't," the fourth woman, Halibel, asserts flatly.

"Don't mind Nel," Rangiku says to her rather uncomfortable and annoyed cousin. "She's had a little too much to drink; she's truly very refined." Toshiro merely rolls his eyes in response.

"You jackass!" Pivoting to the angry voice he knew all too well, Toshiro meets Karin's glower as she crosses the threshold, irrationally fuming, "You left me in the car!"

"So?" he says offhandedly.

"'So'?!" she echoes incredulously. "You locked it!"

He chuckles, a teasing gleam breaking his previous scowl. "Don't tell me you still have trouble unlocking the doors," he says belittlingly.

"As a matter of fact, I do," she affirms, glare unwavered. "Because you have the most complicated fucking car on the planet!" Toshiro just raises a mocking brow in reply, and it's only now that Karin notices their bright-haired audience. "Er.." She quickly assumes composure, lips curling almost timidly, "hey!"

"Oh!" Nel pipes up instantly, shooting Rangiku an inquisitive look. "Is that her?" The other woman merely nods, and the drunken model promptly skips to the young girl. "She's as adorable as you said!" she squeals, embracing the teen giddily in her arms.

Sighing, Toshiro turns away from the scene of Karin being essentially fawned over by the busty models and fulfills his previous goal of getting a bottle of water from the fridge. And when he turns around five seconds later to see that all the women - including the raven-haired beauty - were gone, he nearly pouts.

Karin had cut back their weekly 'rituals' to a once a month event, and now, it seems he'll have to wait another week.

.

.( surprise visit from the sexy mistress and the upset 'girlfriend' ).

.

"Alright," Rangiku addresses her cousin once she, Orihime, Nel and Halibel are ready to go club-hopping, "I'll be back tomorrow." Toshiro merely nods in reply, and she casts him a grin before following her friends out the door. "Don't miss us too much!"

"I won't," he mutters, resuming his ascension of the stairs to the second floor, unfastening the buttons of his shirt as he saunters down the hallway to his bedroom.

He lazily discards his shirt as he makes his way to the bed, paying no mind to his jeans or anything else for that matter as he flops face first onto his very welcoming mattress, feeling instant comatose. Being in the company of the four rather boisterous women for the past two days had resulted in mental debility for the young teen, and despite it being only nine o'clock at night, he sees it as a _great_  time to go to sleep.

It could be taken as boredom, or perhaps just a long-awaited migraine from the unexpected and slightly unruly presence of the four females, but instead, Toshiro blames his fatigue on the very thing his cousin had presumed the day before; he was sexually frustrated. And all he wants to do is succumb to his lethargy and forsake all wanton thoughts of seeking out that damn ravenette for the sake of (almost) alleviation.

That alone would be far too desperate and easy; he knows the simplicity of ending such a state, but his pride and love of the game exceeds that notion, continuously keeping him from his ultimate desires. And it doesn't help that Karin shares the same vices, progressively keeping him at arms' length. Although, it's a wobbling arm; an inconsistent obstacle she evokes between the intervals that she indulges in his intimate presence, rather than his friendly facade.

And it was this inconsistency of hers that keeps him hooked; he becomes accustomed to a routine, the she turns the tables. And although it aggravates him constantly, it fascinates him. It keeps him on his toes, and he always finds himself waiting for her. Wondering if she's on her way to him, with that gleam of seductive playfulness in her eyes and that captivating smirk on her face, ready to take down his wonderwall and lure him in for an indefinite spell of wondrous euphoria.

She's a fickle woman, and he loves her for it. As it only makes his life that more interesting. So while he lies sunken into the bed linens with his eyelids drooped in pending slumber, it's only natural that he's unsuspecting of her arrival - until she literally pounces on him.

"Hey," Karin greets with enthuse, coiling all four slender limbs around him like a leech. "Jeez Toshiro," she scolds playfully, "has that hair colour finally gotten to you, or are you really so lame as to go to bed before ten?"

"Ha ha ha," he sounds dryly, rolling his eyes. "Good to know you haven't lost your touch."

Her none too gentle palm slaps his sarcastic remark back into his skull, "Shut up!"

Toshiro chuckles. "Sorry," he repents insincerely, casting her a sideways glance as he rests his head on folded arms. "Suppose I just missed the abundant cleverness of your joke."

"Ha ha ha," she mocks, scrunching her features in a cutely repugnant manner. Shifting off of him soon after, Karin rolls onto her back and begins studying the dimly lit ceiling, a smile meeting her lips as Toshiro brings her into a partial cuddle, providing a pleasant source of warmth in his purposely cold house.

"This is fancy," he breaks the lull a minute later, his rather lustful gaze set on the corset-esque top she's wearing as he traces the flowery embroiderment with his index finger.

Turning her attention to him once more, Karin summons a coy grin. "Do you like it?" she asks unnecessarily.

"That would be an understatement," he replies, clearly enticed. "You should wear stuff like this more often."

"You think so?" she drawls rhetorically, her slender frame snuggling up to his in a titillating manner; and he merely grins in response, taking the bait. "I suppose I could manage.." she says between few soft giggles as he leads his lips along her collarbone, the cool and gentle nips stimulating shivers along her skin. "Rangiku has given me an abundant supply, after all."

"Has she.." he murmurs at the nape of her neck, sending mental admiration towards his cousin and her favorable philanthropy. Endearing gleam intact, he meets her gaze once more, "well, I always knew that frivolous career of hers would come in handy eventually."

Karin chuckles. "Better not let Rangiku hear you dissing her profession."

"Meh.." He shrugs, the hand not currently propping him up casually roaming her ravishing form as if he were memorizing the topography. "She knows my views on the fashion world; I've told her many times."

"Awe.. so you're an asshole to other people too?' she feigns disdain. "And here I thought I was special."

"Oh, don't worry," Toshiro sings seductively, leaning into her. "I save the worst for you."

She only manages a giggle as he captures her lower lip with his teeth, tugging none too gently as he draws her closer against him, and she simply unleashes his built up hunger by snaking her hand into his messy hair, earnestly grasping the snowy lock as she gives into his ardent advances; permitting him to pin her against the all too comfortable mattress, she merely encases his frame between her thighs and responds to his eager lips, her own mind quickly clouding with lust. In any other situation and with any other person, the inferiority she feels would have her recoiling in fury. But not with him, not between his brawn and his bed, where she feels nothing but trust and passion - sanctuary.

And with that notion, that her resolve dwindles. In the way their jeans meet and how he grasps her curves, calloused lips nipping the flesh of her neck so avidly it spurs a spell of partially pained yet covetous moans, he sends her guard tumbling down; a million tiny pieces that were once her willpower were now her blessing, and she feels her lust instantly heighten.

She doesn't say it, her mouth too occupied by his to voice her submission, but it's heard loud and clear as she picks up the pace in every which way her inferior position allows, permitting him to do the same; to push a little further, grip a little harder, and as she arches into every touch and responds to every kiss with an almost impatient air, the unspoken sanction is wondrously deafening. And the only thing that keeps him from essentially tearing her jeans off is the shrill sound of his doorbell.

He ignores it, however, and goes about unbuckling her pants with frightening ease. But as the ringing persists, he feels agitation overcome his desire by the smallest yet undeniable degree.

"I have to get rid of them," he mutters grudgingly, reluctantly drawing back.

She pouts with hazy eyes. "Well, be quick about it."

Toshiro chuckles, returning her dazed expression as he grabs his shirt. "Don't worry, I will."

An impatient sigh echoes about the room once he leaves, and Karin begins twirling her long ebony tresses in her fingers while she works to keep her 'fuck switch' on - of which she is successful. However, after what she notes to be five minutes, such success deteriorates; she may have wanted to go all the way, and still does deep down, but the moment had passed.

But that's not to say the moment couldn't be relived, and so she lingers in the same inviting pose, studying the creases in the ceiling once more. Then after another five minutes of waiting, Karin slides off the bed, smooths and composes her attire, and ventures out of the room, curious to see who could have kept Toshiro from returning.

The answer couldn't have been a more bigger turn-off; having promptly peered around the corner to the living room upon stepping off the staircase, she sees Toshiro and an all too familiar girl sitting with their backs to her on the couch, and her guard builds up quicker than it had shattered. She feels her heart sink with both guilt and jealousy, the latter of which she's always been and the former of which she's only felt since five months ago, at the beginning of this twisted triangle.

From the lies of which her mind has been fed and the fallacy of which her heart has believed, it's a boy hugging his girlfriend; a girl of which he claims to love and care for, and can't seem to let go of. And so, with ignorance of the truth, Karin will simply put on her shoes, done her coat, and leave without so much as a sound.

_._

_.phew, for a minute there, I lost myself._

_._


	12. Misconceptions

 

It had been with both reluctance and concern that he let Hinamori inside.  _R_ _eluctance_ , due to the fact that the utterly enthralling girl of his dreams was upstairs, awaiting his return and ready to give into him completely. And  _concern_ , due to the fact that his 'girlfriend' was crying on his doorstep with a rather nasty gash on her lower lip and looking absolutely pitiful.

Now, it's with a sense of awkwardness and a slightly stiffened posture that he holds her as they sit on the sofa, both of which heighten with every passing second that she attempts to muffle her sobs by burying her face in his chest - they're much too close for comfort. And while she fights her waterworks, his conscience wages a war within itself; the selfish and horny teenage boy in him begs to return to his bedroom while the friendly and empathetic man in him demands to stay put, commencing a battle with each other.

The latter eventually wins, surprisingly.

He feels mild disgust when she, after what felt like an hour, confesses the reason for her visit; an utterance of words between sniffles and more sobs that only remind him that she was having physical relations with a man twelve years their senior. He keeps his judgements to himself, but they're reflected in his eyes when they lock with hers, and it reminds her just why she turned to her far more genial professor in the first place - Toshiro has an effortless way of sending the guiltiest and most belittling feelings through her with just one look, and its an aspect only few people - excluding her - can deal with.

"I'm sorry for coming unannounced," she says, shifting out of his arms - to which he more than quickly yields, dropping his hands to his lap.

"It's fine," he lies flatly.

She wipes her eyes rather sheepishly. "I just didn't have anyone else to go to.. ( _you're the only one who knows the truth_ )."

"Yeah yeah.." he mutters a little too offhandedly, bringing his thumb and forefinger to rub his eyes. "Don't worry about it."

He allows a short lapse of silence before uttering the crucial inquiry: "Are you positive?"

Momo exhales exasperatedly. "As positive as that damn pink plus sign."

"So you're not completely sure," he presumes simply. It evokes a nearly inaudible scoff-like laugh, and with an inward sigh of contemplation, he yields to the unasked question. "You can stay in the guest room for tonight; I'll take you to the clinic in the morning." She merely nods. "But first I'll have to-'

"Get rid of your girlfriend?" she presumes knowingly, standing up in an almost dutiful manner. "I'll go to the kitchen and act oblivious."

Faintly appreciative, Toshiro inclines his head. "Help yourself to whatever," he offers, proceeding out of the room.

"Toshiro?" He halts in the archway of the living room to cast her an attentive look, and she shoots him a faintly genuine smile. "Thank you."

He merely gives her a curt nod before continuing on the path to his bedroom, quickly ascending the stairs and practically speed-walking down the barren corridor. However, when he enters the room to find that Karin had already left, a frown breaks over his features and a calloused hand runs through his hair, chest heaving a conflicted sigh.

"Dammit."

* * *

They have free-track at the end of every Monday, and it's then that Toshiro seeks her out in the gymnasium. He approaches her with caution, however, as he minds - due to a vivid memory from the previous year - how easy it would be for her to 'miss' the punching bag before her and punch/kick him instead. And upon seeing him enter the nearly deserted recreation room, Karin's sweaty features immediately conform to a scowl, indisputable anger rippling in her chest as he comes closer.

"Hey," he greets casually, assuming his usual hands-in-pockets stature.

"Hey," she returns just as casually, raking drenched bangs back from her face and wiping sweat from her brow, neither of which make her any more presentable - not that either of them really care.

"I missed you the other night," he says, eyeing her intently for any outward aspect of rage.

"I'm sure you did," she mutters, granting him with sought out 'aspect of rage' by way of a bitter smirk, and her fist briskly meets the hard surface before her. "You looked a little busy," she reasons with a shrug, attempting to seem impassive. "I figured it was a good time to leave."

"I see.." He nods skeptically, nearly flinching as she repeats her previous action. "Are you upset with me or something?"

He deserves a whack upside the head for being so dense, she muses, yet discards the tempting thought and instead shoots him an all too sweet smile. "Of course not," she says half-truthfully.

His expression is anything but convinced. "Really?" Another loud  _thud_  sounds as her fist meets the hard cylinder once again. "'cause you seem upset."

"Nope," she denies, shaking her head for emphasis as she adjusts her gloves in preparation of more inconspicuous venting.

But despite her efforts, he remains unconvinced and persistent. "Listen," he starts, tone actually sincere. "About the other night, it's not-'

"Toshiro," she interjects curtly, eyes hardening as they meet his. "It's fine, okay? I  _really_  couldn't care less." She was lying through her teeth, that much was obvious, but he refrains from calling her on it, and she soon directs another punch to the heavy bag, despite her dire urge to direct it to his face. "It's fine," repeat, "I'm fine," repeat, "you're  _definitely_  fine," At that, her foot meets the punching bag with enough aggression to send it scaling backwards, and she casts him another falsely kind look, "and the world continues to turn."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep," she affirms coolly, removing her gloves and slinging her duffle bag over her shoulder with surefire intent of leaving. "It never halts rotation, look it up."

He pivots on the spot as she brushes past him, expression arrogantly hopeful. "So, we're good?"

"Yep," came her curt response.

"Do you want a drive home?"

"Nope," she declines briskly, pushing the girls' locker room door open unceremoniously. "Ichigo and Rukia are taking me and Yuzu out for dinner." With that explanation, the door closes behind her, leaving Toshiro to stare at the gray concrete barrier wistfully.

Sighing a moment later, he proceeds to the exit, convincing himself for the thousandth time that she'll come back to him.

.

.

.

A shimmer of hope spurs in his chest when he leaves the school building twenty minutes later and sees a petite ravenette waiting by his car - but this soon dissipates when he realizes it isn't Karin, and with his trademark scowl, he approaches the awaiting girl.

"Hey," Toshiro greets blandly, promptly chucking his bag in the backseat.

"Hey Shiro," Momo returns in her usual sweet tone, swivelling to face him head on. He merely cocks a brow at her, expectant. "Oh, right," she says, as if she'd forgotten her purpose. "They called me with the results, and I'm definitely not pregnant."

"That's good," he remarks rather indifferently; he briefly studies her features, minding the makeup and red lipstick that perfectly conceals her minor wound to anyone who doesn't know better, then asks in an almost caring tone: "Have you told him yet?"

"Not yet," she admits, whether she was reluctant to go or not indiscernible. "But I'm headed there now."

"And you're going to end it," he assumes aloud, having initially intended it to be a question rather than a statement.

Forehead creasing quizzically, she meets his gaze once more. "End it?" she echoes ignorantly. "Why would I do that?"

"Oh, I don't know," he drawls sarcastically. "Maybe because he hit you?"

"He was just upset-'

"That doesn't matter," he interjects firmly, summoning his 'concerned friend' card. "Why the hell would you even keep seeing him after that, anyway? I mean, the guy's a bastard; and he's just using you."

"No, he's not," she argues, evoking the rarity of anger in both her tone and expression. "He loves me, and I love him back."

A scoff escapes him. "You're an idiot."

A scowl twists her features. And upon catching a fleeting glimpse of Karin emerging from the nearby building with her sister, she summons a bitter smirk. "So are you." His eyes harden. "And for the record, if anyone's a bastard who's using me, it's you."

"Please," he jeers loftily. "It's not like I have you bound by contract. And if it really bothers you that much," he shrugs noncommittally, "end it." He rivals her glower with a spiteful smirk. "But then, where would your cover go?"

Chewing her lower lip with a mix of anxiousness and modesty, Momo holds his piercing stare with a hard glare of her own, and eventually, she huffs. "I really hate you."

His smirk only magnifies, reflecting self-loathe. "Join the club."

Toshiro doesn't so much as grant her with a glance when she strides past him, proceeding towards the lousy man she calls a lover, and simply makes to get in his car. However, he soon pauses with his hand on the driver's side door when he hears familiar laughter, prompting his gaze to drift towards a black volkswagen as it passes him by, and he catches the briefest glimpse of Karin in the backseat of her brother's car, the blatant source of such a heartwarming sound.

A sense of dejection befalls him as he watches the car disappear amongst the late afternoon traffic, and he heaves an exasperated sigh; he truly is an idiot, and even more of a bastard.

_._

_.you'll sit alone forever, if you wait for the right time. What are you hoping for?._

_._


	13. Loathe

 

There's one thing, amongst very few, that Karin Kurosaki is absolutely sure of - she despises Toshiro Hitsugaya.

She hates the way the faintest curl of his lips can spur a sequence of butterflies in her chest, and how she can never resist returning the gesture. She hates the way the mildest touch of his hand against her skin can stimulate shock waves of desire through her entire being, and how difficult it is to abstain from his gently aggressive caress. And thirdly, she hates the way the softest brush of his cool lips on hers can leave her wanting more, and how his mouth will always form a victorious smirk when she satisfies that craving.

He's too charming, he's too tempting, and he's too damn perfect. All of which she detests, and all of which make it too easy to change the word 'hate' to 'love'.

* * *

Hatred is piqued that Monday night; part way through dinner at a local restaurant, after Yuzu had brought up her boyfriend of eight months, Hanataro, and the older twin could hear the question before it was even spoken.

"So, Karin," Rukia starts. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Karin can feel her brother's hazel eyes bore into her from across the table, as his protective meter had already been heightened due to Yuzu's disclosure, and more for her sake than his, she simply shakes her head, truthfully and rather dejectedly. "Nope."

Relief washes over Ichigo, and Rukia frowns slightly. "Huh.."

Karin cocks a brow at her, to which the other woman chuckles. "Sorry," she says, not too sweet but not too bland. "I guess I'm just a little surprised."

"Well I think it's great," Ichigo declares. "You guys are too young to be dating, anyway."

"But Ichi'," Yuzu's quick to refute. "You and Rukia have been together since middle school."

"That's different," he reasons simply. All three women roll their eyes at him. "What?" he shrugs ignorantly. "It is."

Rukia's prompt to slap him on the arm. "You baka!"

Hugging her stomach, Karin leans back in her seat and absentmindedly watches the two 'adults' before her argue like petty children, the previous subject having formed a lump in her throat and pushed any incentive to eat into oblivion, replacing itself with thoughtful quietude.

She hadn't lied to Toshiro earlier that day when she'd claimed she wasn't upset with him over Saturday night. At least, not entirely; it wasn't Hinamori's seemingly surprise visit nor was it the fact that she almost let him win - that had only served to make her feel like an idiot - and it wasn't even anything in particular that he did. It was merely the notion that seeing  _them_  together had reminded her of: that she'll always come in second.

Not only does that fuel her contempt towards him and breaks her heart just a little more, but it also raises her own self-loathe to the surface. 'Cause, even with that knowledge and these feelings, she let's him govern her body, occupy her mind, and possess her heart. And as much as she tries to stay away, she can't.

It sickens her, the way she's conformed to him.

* * *

She tries to avoid him that week.

Although, this resolution is gradually weakened throughout the the first day, with every moment that she's in his presence and every time he floats through her mind, and she feels that line between love and hate blur once again.

In the briefest meeting of his brilliant and inviting teal gaze, she feels an all too prominent blush rise to her cheeks and she nearly stumbles into an oncoming student. She scowls as he smirks, and despite her captivation, forces her feet to continue in their set direction, rather than pivot to his.

In the single class they have together, they sit side by side, as they always have, and as she taps her foot with impatience against the vinyl floor, she evades his beguiling gaze by setting her eyes on the clock ahead - which seems to be mocking her by ticking extra slowly.

And even still, he crumbles her resolve; the back of his hand will brush hers and send jolts along her arm, raising the hairs and prickling the skin, forcing her to bite her lip in order to remain composed. His breath will travel along her neck as he subjects her ear to quiet whispers, sending wanton shivers down her spine, and his words of trivial things are incoherent as she works to slow her racing heart - of which is deafening. And when the bell rings after those fifty torturesome minutes she bolts from her desk and out the door fast enough to send loose documents askew, unwittingly leaving a pen or pencil behind - of which he uses as an excuse to interact with her only minutes later.

Even with ignorance that a game is being played, he still manages to succeed her. And so, after only three days of playing cat and mouse, she admits defeat.

.

.

.

Having ditched History, Toshiro wanders aimlessly about the halls of Karakura High, dismally clicking away on his cell phone as he plays tetris and fiddling with his car keys as he entertains the idea of leaving, pacing leisurely. So naturally, he's oblivious to a certain raven-haired girl stalking up from behind him until he's forcibly pulled into one of many closets and is barely given the time to compose himself, let alone react, before he's pinned against the door and his dry lips are attacked by her soft.

She's fervent and eager in her advance as she strains her short stature in an unnecessary attempt to hold him there, snaking her hands into his hair and making the space between them nonexistent. And it's not long before her back meets the adjacent wall as he claims dominance, of which she fosters. She lets him leave bruises at her curves, kiss swelling numbness into her lips, and steal her heart yet again, nothing but joy driving her senses; it's with this sanction that they're lulled into the twisted rapture of which they've created, where everything's wonderful and okay and makes them never want to leave - so they don't. At least, not anytime soon. Not until he's built her heart up to the highest level of happiness it can possibly lift, only to send it crashing down again.

* * *

And the thing she hates most about Toshiro Hitsugaya, above all else, is that he makes himself impossible not to love. And she's fallen so deep into that trap she can no longer see the surface.

  _._  


_.I will steal you back._

_._


	14. Downfall

 

It's easy (naive), when they are alone and loving, to think they are a couple; to believe that she is his and he is hers and there's no twisted game hanging over their heads and straining their relationship to the very bounds of indignation. And it's heartbreaking (shattering) to be reminded of the opposite and hit over the head with the truth, the next day or the next week, when she sees him and  _her_.

They look happy, she muses.  _In love;_  it's a fallacy of which she is unaware and ignorantly believes, 'cause he's never told her otherwise.

She has to constantly block thoughts of them together from her mind, but it's exceedingly difficult; she can't help but wonder what it is he does or  _who_  he does and in what manner when they aren't together. The desperate notion of it all sickens her, makes her feel guilty and disarrayed, yet curious. She would never  _ask,_  as she doesn't want to  _hear_  the words spoken or  _see_  the answers reflected in his eyes, so, she remains oblivious. Hopelessly negligent to the truth that, when they aren't together, he sits alone in his car or his bedroom thinking about her, and her only.

Thus begins their decline; with her ignorance and stubbornness and his deceitfulness and arrogance, they push themselves further and further away from each other until there's nothing but a field of lies and regret between them, eating them alive and veiling their hearts desire with an inconsistence of malice and greed.

She keeps their intimate meetings scarce in hopes that he will break down and come to her, rather than the other way around. Yet, he doesn't, as he doesn't have to. Because she's given him the impression that she'll always go to him and initiate what she regards as treacherous deeds, and he thinks this for good reason, 'cause that's exactly what she does. She can disregard his presence and avoid his gaze all she wants, but in the end, it's  _her_  pulling him into the closet or knocking on his front door, and the cycle begins once again. They'll talk and laugh, kiss and touch, while her heart lifts to the sky and her dignity silently deteriorates, so by the end of the intimate feat she's left feeling broken and amiss once again.

And it's after seven months of this unstable routine that she finally admits to herself: this game isn't fun anymore.

* * *

Her feet tap anxiously against the thin carpet as she sits in the backseat of the yellow cab in a stew of silence and anticipation, and upon seeing the all too familiar scenery of the neighbourhood, she wrings her hands out in her lap and chews her lips fervently, dark eyes apprehensive as they note all the large pretty houses they drive past in the following minutes. She'd kept Toshiro in the dark for nearly two weeks, but on this night when she's meant to go on a third date, she feels it's time to tell him, and she has to tell him in person before she goes forward with her plans; she has to end it officially, tonight.

It's silly, when she thinks about it, that she was, in a sense, breaking up with him when they weren't even technically together. However, it was protocol for these types of situations, she believes, and as much as it pains her to do so, she needs to, for the sake of her conscience.

She asks the driver to wait once he's parked in the round-about driveway, and wraps her arms around herself for self-indulgent heat against the cool air as she makes her way to the front door. And despite it being, essentially, her second home, her hand hesitates on the doorknob; after a moment of contemplation, she directs her forefinger to the button on the left side and assumes her previous stature as she waits to be answered.

It's those tantalizing teal eyes she's greeted with only a minute later, and his mouth instantly curves into that blush evoking grin. "Hey," his cool voice carries, causing her heart to swell with conflicting emotions.

"Hi.." Karin returns timidly.

"This is a pleasant surprise," Toshiro remarks with ignorance of the awkward aura surrounding his friend, smile unwavering. "But you know, you  _can_  just let yourself in." The chuckle that leaves him only makes her quest that more difficult. "Rangiku even made a partially edible cake you can demolish," he adds invitingly.

A light laugh escapes her. "That sounds... appealing," she says in an iffy tone. "But I can't stay."

"Why, got a hot date or something?" He clearly hadn't meant it as a question, but at the sudden twist in her expression, he realizes it's more valid than he'd thought.

"Yeah, actually," she confirms his less than pleasant notion. "I'm going to dinner with Lee."

"Oh.." An instant frown breaks his feature, and he casually leans against the doorframe. "You and _Lee_  again, huh?" She merely nods to his rhetorical pursuit of confirmation, and within the second that she runs a hand through her hair, enmity spurs in his chest.

"Do you have your key?" he asks a moment later.

Her forehead creases. "What?"

"I just wanna know if I should leave the door unlocked," he explains coolly, spite and arrogance woven through his words and reflected in his eyes, collectively making the task at hand that much simpler for her.

"Leave it unlocked if you'd like," she says blandly. "But I'm not coming back." He cocks a skeptical brow, fueling her animosity and incentive. "The game's over, Toshiro."

His features twist in a rapid and quizzical manner. "Excuse me?"

"It was stupid to begin with," she reasons, straining to keep an even tone. "And it's just going to end badly." Her eyes soften a fraction in woe while she allows the briefest lapse of silence, and before he can manage a response, "so let's just leave it at a tie, or whatever.." She chuckles shortly and emptily, "hell, let's just say Momo won. I mean, it's obvious she's the one you want, or you would've ended it months ago."

"Karin-'

"And that's fine," she continues, refusing to heed any words he may manage to say. "You two are good together." The smile that paints her face is nothing short of forced, "anyways, that's what I came to say, and I said it.. so I'm gonna go." Pivoting instantly, Karin begins a hasty retreat.

"Wait-'

"I'll see you at school!" she calls back in a practical croak and picks up her pace, arriving at the car in no time and clearly goading the driver into a quick departure. Toshiro's shoulder slump defeatedly as he watches the taxi drive off and out of sight, all words caught in his throat and making for a near-suffocating lump.

Just feet behind him, Rangiku sports a vicarious frown, as it had always been her way to eavesdrop, and her light-blue eyes are set solely on her young cousin as he slowly crosses the threshold, closing the door behind him with restrained fury. The words he'd spoken on New Year's Eve echo through her mind as he meets her gaze, briefly, then wordlessly ascends the stairs with an aggressive ruffle of his hair and a radiating sense of dejection, seeking the solitude of his bedroom.

_._

_.it ends tonight._

_._


	15. Nostalgia

 

It's mocking him.

Tracing the creases in the ivory ceiling with blank teal eyes, Toshiro rests his head on folded arms and lies amongst disgruntled bed linens, basking in the early morning atmosphere of fond memories.

Something's missing. Or rather,  _someone_  is absent, leaving him colder than usual and more wistful than ever.

Her slender body, clad in a rumpled skirt and unfastened short-sleeved blouse, isn't entwined with his, as it had been on so many afternoons throughout those twistedly blissful months. Her heartwarming laughter isn't breaking through the fervent air of his bedroom as it recedes, of which never failed to bring the corners of his mouth upwards into a giddy grin while he'd continue his trivial ramblings and chuckles at her amiable retorts for the remainder of their intimate haze. And lastly, her enthralling onyx gaze isn't fixed on the expanse of white above while she'd periodically steal glances at him and casually weave her slim fingers through his, a suggestive smirk playing her lips as she silently begs him to admit defeat and come back to her, completely committed. Of which he never obliged, despite himself, for he's a hopeless and corrupt idiot.

And now, as a result, he lies alone. With bitter and dejected disposition, he stares at the ceiling as it betrays him by way of forcing reminiscence upon him, making for an unmitigated ache in his chest.

* * *

His alarm clock shrieks promptly at 8:00 AM, tearing him from his remorseful recollection and into the reality of the day, and with an exasperated sigh, he hits the off-switch and proceeds to follow his rather short morning routine.

Fifteen minutes later, he enters the kitchen, clad in his school uniform, and drops his duffel bag unceremoniously on the floor before he goes for the fridge, collectively interrupting his cousin's delightful humming.

"Good morning, Cuz'!" Rangiku greets enthusiastically, setting her fork down beside her half-eaten piece of cake.

He merely grunts in reply as he goes about preparing a bowl of cereal, and an instant frown plays her lips. It had been ten days since the 'breakup', a period of time he'd spent either alone in his room or driving aimlessly about the streets of Karakura, given that it had been spring break, and although he did his best to portray nonchalance about the whole ordeal, his melancholy is as clear as day, and it seems to only get worse as time wears on.

"I'll be home late," he says dully as he grabs a jug of milk from the fridge and proceeds to the counter with his dish, standing opposite her as he pours the white liquid overtop a mixture of bran and raisins. "Out Spring season starts today."

"Okee~dokee!" she sing-songs, grinning brightly in account to him actually speaking to her - an occurrence that was rare as of late. And she soon folds her arms atop the counter, watching him intently as she takes the risk of asking: "Are you going to talk to Karin today?"

She almost regrets this question at the faint yet noticeable tensing of his shoulders; but this regret is soon replaced by annoyance at his blunt reply. "She is Vice Captain," he drawls. "So yes, I will have to talk to her."

"Don't get smart with me." He merely rolls his eyes and begins scarfing down his breakfast in a none too refined manner. "What I  _meant_  was are you going to  _talk. to. her...?_ " Recognition of what she was referring to sets in almost instantly, in the form of a scowl.

"And say what?" he questions irritably, setting his now empty bowl in the sink.

"The truth?" she offers with an 'obviously, you idiot' gesture of her hands.

Toshiro scoffs quietly. "It won't make a difference," he convinces himself. "If anything, it'll just make it worse."

"Can it honestly get any worse?"

"Yes," he asserts flatly, venturing once again to the fridge for a bottle of water. "And," he shoots her a firm look, "don't you even think about meddling, or I'm kicking you out."

"You always play the 'kicking me out card'," she mutters, pouting.

"It's the only card I have with you," he reasons offhandedly, retrieving his duffle bag once more. "I mean it, Rangiku.  _No meddling_."

"Alright, alright," she surrenders, raising her hands for emphasis. "I won't meddle." Content with her oath, he starts down the hallway. "But you better fix it soon!" she calls after him. "I want that girl in our family!"

A not so reserved  _slam_  of the front door is his response. And Rangiku simply smiles. "Karin Hitsugaya," she tries on her tongue, giggling instantly with anticipation. "Has a nice ring to it."

* * *

He'd never detested soccer practice. In fact, he  _used_  to love it.

That was until today, however. The first day of their final season, where he gets a front row seat to continual flirtation between Lee and Karin - of which, to any other person is completely unnoticeable, but to Toshiro is all too apparent, serving to deepen the nearly permanent scowl on his face and increase the nearly unbearable ache in his chest.

And he only has himself to blame; he'd dragged the game on for too long, hurt her more than he thought he would and considerably more than he intended, and now, he was facing the heartwrenching repercussions: he was to be the distant and silent observer to Karin, the girl he loves unconditionally, falling in love with someone else.

A cancelled game never tasted so sour.

.

.

.

There's a stiffness in the atmosphere later that evening as Toshiro and Karin sit on opposite sides of the semi-small conference room's singular table, reluctantly going over drills and plays out of obligation of their titles.

She rivals his indomitable attitude with guarded disposition, feelings of love and contempt unchanging - the former of which she's working desperately to overlook; to eliminate. But it's proving to be excruciatingly difficult, and only serves to enhance the latter.

Whenever she was having issues, he was always the one she went to. He was the one who listened to her trivial rants and deepest tribulations, feigning false callousness as he remained silent and waited until she was finished before uttering the blunt yet underlyingly caring remark that made everything instantly better. But now, her issues revolve  _around_  him, and she has no one to talk to about it. She can't bring herself to speak the truth to anyone; not even her sister, who already knew, partially, and it throws her mind into chaos.

Oh, how she despises this boy.

Thus, with a deep scowl etched on her feature to perfectly mirror his own, she goes about her duty and attempts to forsake all sentiment towards her unwilling partner with consistent failure and further indignation, ultimately leading her to speed up the process so she can leave - with the blush inciting result: their hand meet. No, more like their  _fingertips_  collide for two seconds and in those two seconds spurs all feelings she'd worked so hard to repress, each one vibrating through her body and spreading in prominent red over her cheeks.

And it's this obtrusive flush upon her otherwise pallid features that has him smirking to himself with a sense of gratification. A flicker of hope. And in the briefest meeting of their eyes, he can detect the same unwavered affection he feels towards her reflected in those dazzling dark irises before she quickly looks away, fumbling with pencils and pages as she works to relinquish her blush, along with such affection he's already gathered, and it immediately brings him out of his gloomy remorse - into doting ambition.

He's going to get her back.

_._

_.slight hope, it dangles on a string, like slow spinning redemption._

_._


	16. Vexation

 

When it comes to Karin, he's the master of flirtation and seduction. But above that, he's the king of stealth and perfect timing.

And he's going to exploit all aspects, fully.

* * *

With a devious smirk, he approaches the unsuspecting couple; sauntering down the corridor at a leisurely pace and ignoring all wanton looks from female passersby, Toshiro sets his sights solely on  _her_.

"Hey guys," he greets casually, leaning against the lockers beside a now aggravated Karin with his forearm. "What's up?"

At Karin's silent and abrupt fury, Lee starts. "Oh, we're just-'

"That's nice," Toshiro dismisses coolly, breaking his gaze from the annoyed girl briefly to cast the other man a glance. "Lee, would you mind giving Karin and I a minute alone? We have important soccer matters to discuss."

"Er.. Yeah, sure," Lee sanctions ignorantly, casting them both a grin and a wave before proceeding down the hallway. "I'll see you guys at practice."

"See ya," Karin returns sweetly. And once the boy she's dating disappears, she shoots her ex-best-boyfriend a repugnant glare. "What the hell do you want?"

"Nothing," he says offhandedly, straightening up once more. "But you know," his lips curl artfully, almost charming her out of indignation. "Rangiku and I sure do miss you up at the house."

Fighting a blush, her glower intensifies, while his facet remains evasively endearing as he continues, "she always did enjoy dressing you up in all her fancy clothes." Heaving a nostalgic sigh, he shoves his hands in his pockets and gives the near-barren corridor a quick scan, then with a come-hither demeanor, "and I more than enjoyed taking them off."

Biting her lip almost hard enough to break the soft barrier, her cheeks tinge an obtrusive pink. And with a victorious gleam, he turns on his heel and resumes his beguiling stride down the narrow passage. "We'd love it if you came for a visit soon," he practically sings, savoring the disdainful stare that bores into his back as if it's a 1-UP on his way to saving the princess.

Straining to deflect the magnetic pull of which he's projecting, Karin heaves an irritated sigh and pivots in the opposite direction, commencing a far more angrier stride down the hallway.

"Conniving bastard.."

* * *

She hadn't thought it was possible to hate Toshiro Hitsugaya more than she already did. But it was becoming apparent, as of late, that she'd truly underestimated just how (lovably) troublesome he could be.

He was just  _always_  there, constantly subjecting her, and more often than once, Lee, to his sneak attacks. He was akin to a cat; with a cheshire grin and incognito movements, he was a devoted nuisance.

He regularly separates them in the corridors between classes and at soccer practice after school - as those were his only opportunities to interfere - with lame excuses that only Karin was adept enough to perceive and that only Lee was thick enough to believe, collectively piquing her abhorrence, as well as pulling at her heartstrings with every charming look and enthralling smirk, ultimately waging battle on her resolution.

And it's after nearly two weeks of this that her vexation heightens to an intolerable level, and she finally snaps.

* * *

They'd barely made it through the first hour of soccer practice before Karin was dragging him off the field with aggressive force, having announced a simple 'Captain's meeting, be back shortly!' to their teammates. And once they're back in the locker rooms, courtesy of her pushing him unceremoniously through the double-doors, she unleashes the full extent of her rage.

"What the hell is your problem?!" she fumes, obsidian depths fierce and small fists clenched.

He effortlessly feigns ignorance, cocking a frosty brow at her. "Excuse me?"

"Don't bullshit me, Toshiro," she says angrily. "You know exactly what I mean."

He just stares at her, not saying a word and fueling her rage. "Argh!" She punches his chest, "you are insufferable!" He merely winces as she attacks him once again, but remains otherwise unfazed, while her heart is practically popping out of her chest with the same chagrined passion he should be eliciting at the current time.

"I mean, for fuck sakes!" she bellows, throwing her arms up dramatically. "What do you want from me?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" he finally speaks, coy indifference reprised with a noncommittal shrug. "I want you."

A caustic laugh escapes her. "No you don't," she refutes, eyes broad with both incredulity and dubious intent. "You  _had_  me, Toshiro. For months!  _Years_  even! The only reason you think you want me now is because you can't have me!"

"That's not true," he argues firmly.

"Really?" She outright doubts. "So is  _that_  why you've spent the past seven months playing mind games and trying to get me in bed with you while still dating Momo? 'Cause if that's the case, then you're even more full of shit than I realized," she ends it with a quirk of her lips - bitter. Indignant. And it pierces him, inciting desperation over canniness.

"Karin, will you just listen-'

"Why? So you can keep fucking me around for your own entertainment?" Her tone never falters in antagonism, eyes never softening, and it truly drills the fact that they're 'over' into his skull. "Look, I'm  _sorry_  if me dating a guy who actually cares enough to take me  _out_  bothers you, but you're just going to have to deal with it.'

"I'm-'

"I'm done playing games, Toshiro," she continues curtly, adamantly cutting him off. "So please, just leave it alone." Recoiling from the close proximity he'd forced upon her to try and coax her into whatever his next scheme was going to be, Karin begins yet another hasty retreat and once again leaves him to stare wistfully after her, all words caught in his throat and heart sinking to an all new low.

This truly takes his hatred for cliffhangers to a whole new level.

.

.

.

It's two hours later, when Toshiro is at his locker, repacking his duffel bag, that he's approached by the last person he wants to talk to - Lee; instantly sending his agitation meter through the roof.

"Hey Captain," Lee addresses as per usual, sporting his ever present 'easygoing' grin. And it would seem Toshiro's dismissive grunt of reply was taken the wrong way. "So," he continues, much to his soccer captain's dismay. "You're like, Karin's best friend or whatever, right?"

"We were close," he replies thoughtlessly.

Lee's brow furrows slightly. "'Were'?"

Heaving the most composed sigh he can muster, "just get to the point, Lee," Toshiro requests flatly, straining not to scowl deeper than usual as he straightens up to meet the other boy's eyes.

"Oh, right. Sorry." He scratches his head sheepishly. "Well, you see, I wanna take her on a date tomorrow night, but I want it to be different.. y'know, special." Despite his efforts, Toshiro's features twist in prominent irritability and he merely cocks a brow, grudgingly begging elaboration. "But, I don't really know what she likes," Lee continues, nearly fumbling in speech due to the other man's piercing stare - somehow, he felt it held more agitation than usual.

"Got any suggestions?" he risks anyway.

Karin's words from earlier echo through Toshiro's mind as he holds Lee's anxious gaze in the brief lapse of silence, all she had said finally connecting in his more composed mind and reminding him just how undeserving her himself is of her, and, as much as he hates to admit it, the boy before him is. The very notion of Karin tugs on his heartstrings, not the ones that had been so adamant to get her back but the ones that still hold an essence of devoted friendship towards the black-haired beauty, and despite his dire wish to dismiss Lee and carry out his selfish plans to steal her back, he doesn't.

No, in utter spite of himself and all he holds dear, he actually helps. "Mac 'n' cheese for dinner, Empire Strikes Back for the movie," he suggests simply, knowing full well of Karin's acute obsession with both.

"Really?" Lee appears skeptical, as it no doubt sounded like the furthest thing from a romantic date, and Toshiro just nods reassuringly, mentally slapping himself all the while. "Well, cool.." Lee accepts with a grin. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Toshiro mutters, his flat tone betraying none of the seriousness his statement holds, and promptly slings his duffle bag over his shoulder, making to depart.

"One more thing," he says not a moment later, pausing at the corner to cast Lee one last glance and grant him one last tidbit to Karin's heart. "Make sure there's ketchup on the table." Then he leaves as hastily as ever, unsure of why he keeps digging his grave deeper and helping that damn idiot steal his best friend away.

* * *

Rangiku has one last night of relaxation left before she has to get on a plane to Paris at six in the morning for a week long business trip. And she's going to spend it the best way she knows how: drinking, and watching HBO.

With a bottle of liquor in one hand and TV remote in the other, the busty blonde settles into the comfy sofa, prepared for a wondrously lazy night. However, she's barely begun searching for the correct channel when she feels the quart-sized bottle leave her grasp, and her head immediately snaps to the left. An instant frown meets her lips as she watches her dejected cousin uncork the bottle and depart from the room without a word, wasting no time in commencing his consumption of the throat burning liquid.

"Cousin?" she calls out of habit, knowing full well he won't answer her.

Stepping out on the back patio, Toshiro takes his place at the edge of the deck, grasping the bottle of saviour-esque elixir with both hands in his lap and gazing blankly at the expanse of unkempt land beyond his miniature mansion, a feeling of comfortable numbness wafting through him.

And for the first time in seven years, he has no ounce of confidence that she'll come back to him.

_._

_.who I am hates who I've been._

_._


	17. Backlash

 

Overall, he's amused. And no less gratified by the situation.

He'd just been in the locker room, about to change his clothes and take advantage of their cancelled practice, courtesy of the bad weather, when she just popped out of nowhere, halting his precedent to go to the school gym. Her voice rings fury and her dark eyes reflect disdain, yet, none of this outward animosity fazes him. As this unexpected and rather heated encounter only verifies the pleasing notion: she still can't stay away.

Now, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his mandatory beige trousers, he holds her hard stare as she adamantly stands between him and his locker, and in spite of her efforts, he remains just as calm and collected as ever.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Toshiro says coolly, continuously fighting to keep his mouth set in a straight line, despite it's urge to curl in amusement.

"Bullshit!" Karin refutes rapidly, hostility twisting her lovely features. And Toshiro just continues to feign innocence.

"Why on earth would I give Lee dating advice?" he questions rhetorically. "The guy's like my nemesis."

"'cause you're a selfish bastard set out to sabotage my love life, that's why!" she fumes, tone dripping with contempt. "And ' _nemesis_ '? Really, Toshiro?"

"Yeah," he vouches airily, shrugging. "I kinda like to think of him as the Superman to my Batman."

"Oh  _please_ ," she quips instantly, unable to resist. "'Batman'?" A scoff-like laugh escapes her, "don't flatter yourself. You're barely in the same rank as Robin."

Placing a hand to his chest, Toshiro heaves an astonished gasp, " _how dare you_." Exaggerative antics too comical to deny a smile, Karin lets her lips curl ever so slightly. "That hurts, Karin," he says in false anguish, inciting a further upturn of her mouth. And with regard of her sudden amiable facet, he summons a teasing smirk. "Is that smile?" She immediately forces a frown. "Did I just get an  _actual_  smile?"

"Oh, fuck you," she jeers, evoking callousness. And he barely and blatantly stifles a chuckle.

" _Again_  with the hostility," he drawls, closing the distance in one swift step. "And here I thought we were friends."

Back meeting the hard metal surface behind her, Karin scowls and presses a firm and repelling hand to his chest. " _Again_  with the invasion of personal space," she mocks, her small hand attempting to ward off his adamant and masculine form. "And we're far from friends."

"You're right," he says subtly, taking her hand in his. "We're more like star-crossed lovers."

Repugnance twisting her otherwise beautiful features, Karin tears her hand from his grasp. "Don't mistake my hatred for love," she warns indignantly, recoiling as far from him as her inferior position allows.

"How can I not?" he challenges, resolutely keeping the distance between them to the very brink of an embrace as he continues to taunt her with his charms. "You say it's over.. tell me to leave you alone.. yet, you can't stay away from me." His cool voice carries a tantalizing tone, inciting the pick up of her heart beat and the tinging of her cheeks. "Rather insensitive of you," he continues almost loftily. "Toying with my heart like that."

"Like you've toyed with mine all year?" she quips dryly, straining to remain composed beneath his charming gaze.

"You never seemed to mind," he attests, brushing a mass of inky bangs behind her ear with gentle fingers. "In fact," his knuckles curl under her jaw as he traces her lower lip with his thumb, "I'd say you enjoyed it."

A scoff escapes her. "That's what you think?" she bites back, bitterness piquing. "That I 'enjoyed' being fucked with for seven months?"

"I don't think 'fucked' is the right word," he argues, both tenderness and arrogance weaving his words. "Perhaps... 'twistedly wooed' is a more appropriate term."

"Label it however you like," she says bluntly, tardily swatting his hand away in a not so firm manner. "But it's over."

"So you keep saying.." Encircling one arm around her waist, Toshiro draws her closer, any intentions of (willingly) letting her go clearly non-existent. "Yet, here we are."

She curses her body as it arches into his touch. "Toshiro," she warns, tone lacking conniption; she'd merely seeked him out for the sake of venting her frustrations in regards to Lee having not been able to come up with such a wonderful date on his own, but now it had all become too close for comfort (in the sense that she felt too comfortable in his arms), and the practical murmur of his name had been more of a sanction than a warning.

"Just admit it, Karin," he persists, a tinge of hope and desperation leaking through his cool facade. "You miss me."

She bites her lower lip; her heart opposes her pride as it screams a deafening 'YES!', and she finds herself at a loss for words. Falling into a conflicted trance, her mind goes into chaos yet again as it fumbles with an answer while she feels her face flushing deeper and more obtrusively within their close proximity, beneath his expectant gaze, amidst the mere inch between their lips, all aspects of this close-quartered encounter threatening to break her resolve. And the only thing that keeps her from yielding to his advance and capturing his lips for the umteenth time this year is the little  _beep_  that sounds from her pocket.

Tensing even more at the sound, she tears her gaze from his and turns her attention to her cell phone, and once she reads the message displayed, the reminder of where and who she's supposed to be, she feels a sense of guilt wash over her.

"I have to go," she announces quietly, slipping the disruptive device back into her breast pocket. Meeting his vigilant gleam once more as his features dim in disappointment, she clears her throat awkwardly and shifts away from him. To which languidly yields, reluctantly letting her go.

He listens to the quick pitter-patter of her shoes on the linoleum floor as she makes her rapid departure, and once the loud  _click_  of the doors closing behind her echo, he heaves an exasperated sigh and leans against the lockers, a familiar ache resurfacing in his chest.

...perhaps it's time for a new approach.

_._

_.the speed at which we move blends so well, it's too soon._

_._


	18. Torn

 

It's inescapable, this wistful nostalgia he's cast upon her. Like a bothersome snake, he invades her mind, evoking an avalanche of memories that are all precious and intimate, and not easily forgotten. And it makes her angry; downright pissed and rigid and unpleasant, ultimately making her a less than sociable dinner companion as she succumbs to thoughtful and inwardly outraged quietude.

' _He should really have 'I'm a conniving bastard' tattooed on his forehead,_ ' she muses bitterly. ' _Or stitched on his soccer jersey..._ '

And there she goes again; she lets thoughts of him, antagonistic ones they may be, fill her mental capacity once more and it sets her heart ablaze, spurring further indignation in her heart. She has half a mind to seek him out and let him have it, attack him with her words and her fists, just to feel a sense of reprieve.

And that's her biggest downfall; not even an hour since their encounter in the locker room and she's already entertaining the idea of going to see him. It's as if she's being pulled to him. As if he's turned his siren song up full throttle and is just waiting for her to come to him, slowly reeling in the rope he's long since bound around her.

He's truly despicable; with this bewitching emerald gaze and perfectly articulated words, he's a symbol of sexual overture. And he's not so easy to resist.

Or so a more agreeable version of herself admits. But not the stubborn Karin she is right now; so what if she'd approached him first? She'd merely intended to speak with him. Or, ahem,  _yell at_  him. Perhaps for the sole purpose of releasing her frustrations. But  _not_ , in any way, shape or form, so he could tighten the hold he has on her heart with his never ending and nearly irresistible advances - which  _didn't_  work on her. Not  _one bit._.

Right?

' _Right_ ,' she convinces herself. ' _I'm completely immune to his charms._ '

But she'd nearly succumbed to them, hadn't she? Caught between his penetrating presence and a hard place, she'd been only seconds away from giving into him. With an audibly racing heart and obtrusive red flush, she'd almost let him have his way.

Her eyes harden at the thought of it; does she have no self-control whatsoever? Or is she really so hopeless that she allows him to corner her like that whenever he so chooses, essentially feeling her up while she merely yields to his sway, practically begging him to touch her and kiss her with nothing but utter delight and consent in return.

She grinds her teeth in chagrin; it's not even  _that_  she's so bothered by. No, the most vexing factor of the whole ordeal is the realization that she  _does_ , in fact, miss him. That much she can't deny. And it isn't even the game or the sneaking around that she misses; it's just  _him_. She longs to be enveloped by the rapture that is his presence and how he makes her feel, physically or otherwise. Yes, along with all the intimate elements, she misses the solidarity; when they'd just spend time together, whether they were entwined or feet apart, and simply indulge in trivial conversations and giddy fits of laughter - that's what she craves most.

And it's the very notion of this, the grudging recognition, that has her straining to remain in her seat rather than bolt out of the restaurant, sprint the distance to wherever he is and let him have his way once again, just for that sense of gratification only he can provide her; to have his lips on hers while his hands roam her body and they're lulled into the wonderfully twisted euphoria they called home for so many months.

"Karin?"

And it's the mere reality that she's sitting across from Lee that keeps her from doing just that.

"You okay?" Snapped from her not so innocent reverie, a pink tinge of embarrassment rises to her cheeks and she meets his slightly concerned gaze. "You've barely touched your food."

She steals a reflexive glance at her cheeseburger and fries, of which had gone cold from neglect. "Sorry," she chuckles timidly, dropping her hands to her lap. "I guess I'm not very hungry."

"That's a first." With her eyes cast downward, she can easily mistake him for her ivory-haired suitor, and a small smile tugs at her lips. "Are you not feeling well?" Lee continues. "I mean, should I take you home?"

A pang of guilt settles in her chest when she meets his eyes once again, and she simply nods, "yeah."

* * *

Wandering aimlessly and impatiently about his house, Toshiro minds the time like a hawk; hands shoved in his pockets and scowl set on his face, he waits.

He's made up his mind. He's adamant and anxious to follow through. And he's using every bit of self-restraint to keep himself garnered until later in the night when he knows for sure that she'll be home. He'll wait a few hours, perhaps until eleven o'clock or so, then, he'll go to her. All schemes and strategies forsaken, he'll play his last card.

He'll finally be honest.

* * *

"Thanks for the drive," Karin says as simply and collectively as she can, effortlessly evading the expectancy of a 'goodbye kiss' as she promptly exits the car. "I'll see you at school."

"See ya," Lee calls back, clearly confused by her strange mood. She can feel his eyes linger on her back as she retreats, making her feel sick with contrition with every step to her front door, and it's only when she turns the knob that he finally departs, inciting an exhale of relief.

Disregarding her sister's greeting and her father's attempts to squeeze her to death, she ascends the stairs and treks down the hallway to her bedroom, seeking solitude. Lazily changing into sweatpants and a tank top, she collapses on her bed and commences a staring match with the ceiling, succumbing to thoughtful quietude once more as she begins chewing her lower lip.

And there's only one notion going through her mind - sticking out amongst all the rest: ' _perhaps I should break it off._ '

It seems rather cold-hearted, to just end it so soon without really giving him a chance. But the thing is, she doesn't want to give him a chance. Sure, she likes him, but not enough. Not to a winsome extent. And definitely not more than  _him;_ she can't see herself really loving Lee in the future, not like she does Toshiro. As he's the only one she'd ever love to such unconditional severity.

It's true that he'd toyed with her emotions, exploited them for his own entertainment and twisted motives, but he'd done it in such a wonderful way, and she'd truly enjoyed it, as it had allowed her to do the same. With mirrored wickedness, she'd teased him and played with his heart relentlessly, and it had been gratifying. She'd even go so far as to say it was the best way to spend their Senior year; even with all the heartbreak he'd inflicted and all the animosity she'd projected, it was fun. And despite all his flaws and all the reasons she has to leave him behind, she can't - she  _won't_.

But then, there's still the  _Lee factor_. He's been nothing but good to her, probably treated her better than Toshiro has in a long while, so, should she really just dismiss him, just like that? Just so she can go back to the callous man she once called her best friend and hope without one-hundred percent assurance that he won't break her heart again; that he'll actually care for it and not make her regret it all in the long run?

It's this uncertainty that has her slapping her hands to her face and groaning in frustration, " _ugh_.." Her eyes sting as she rubs them none too gently. "I don't know..."

.

.

.

She's not sure how long she'd been laying here, unable to sleep, before she hears it. She had, for several minutes, mistaken it for the relentless rain pellets hitting her window. But now, she realizes it's little rocks, woven in with the former sounds, and with furrowed brows, she sits up.

And once she does, her heart skips; even in the pitch black of the night, his messy head of white hair is unmistakable, and it has her immediately bolting from her bedroom with a spur of excitement.

* * *

He's been standing out here for at least ten minutes already, throwing pebbles at her window and straining his eyesight to make out whether or not she's just sitting there and staring at him; mocking him. But, no lights turn on and he sees no porcelain features gleaming down at him, so what does he do? - he continues. Adamant to get her attention, he'll stand out there all night. And so, he readies yet another pebble.

"Where's your boombox?" And he immediately drops it.

Pivoting to his left, he regards the lovely Karin Kurosaki, clad in a blue raincoat, standing just three feet away from him, and unwittingly furrows his brow. "What?"

"Well, come on," she starts, a smirk playing her lips as she crosses her arms over her chest. "If you're gonna do the 'standing outside my window in the rain' cliche, you should at least have a boombox."

She's guarded, he notes this instantly. But there's a playful edge to her tone that has his heart drumming faster with hope and anticipation. "Sorry," he repents flatly, assuming a hands-in-pockets stature as he turns to face her fully. "Guess I'm no Lloyd Dobler."

She heaves a falsely disappointed sigh, "what a shame." He lets mouth curl ever so slightly as she approaches him, eyes never straying from his. "What are you doing here, Toshiro?" she asks almost apprehensively.

He shrugs in his usual way, his cool voice carrying simple words, "I have to tell you something." She merely raises her brows. "Something I should've told you months ago."

_._

_.and just in time, in the right place, suddenly I will play my ace._

_._


	19. Confession

 

The unyielding sound of raindrops hitting the metal exterior of his car is deafening, filling the silence bestowed upon them for the better part of the last three minutes. Her uncharacteristically impassive features are illuminated by the beam of streetlamps and the dim lighting in his car, and in yet another rare occurrence in their many years of friendship, he can't read her.

She just stares at him.

Perhaps she's committing the scene to memory; with his gray pullover nearly soaked to the bone, gradually wrinkling as it dries, and his hair matted by the accumulation of rain he'd been subjected to several minutes before, the snowy locks dishevelled due to his attempts at keeping it out of his eyes, he looks rather cute.

It almost amuses her. It wasn't everyday that his coy and indifferent visage is stripped down to a doting and vulnerable demeanor, after all; she practically revels in it.

He's hanging on every second of silence, teal eyes expectant as they search hers. But they remain as blank as her expression, while her mind registers all he'd just confessed and she feels the ache in her heart recede, and with ignorance of this slowly brewing gratification, he feels his hope gradually deteriorate.

However, despite this complacency of which she's beginning to feel, her pride, such a relentless bitch it is, continues to overrule.

Suddenly, her brows knit together and her eyes betray a flicker of emotion, a particular gleam he's all too familiar with, and almost predictably, she exits the vehicle. And he doesn't waste time on being dumbstruck or opening the door to his own side, immediately clambering over the passenger seat and exiting the car with little grace.

"Karin, wait-'

"Were you on crack when you thought that up?" she questions angrily, whipping around to face him. "Or are you really that stupid?!"

His brow furrows, "...uh"

"Did it ever cross your supposedly 'brilliant' mind that being  _single_  would've caused less conflict and made the game a lot more fun?!" Eyes widening with incredulity, he feels his moronic meter rise. "I mean, for god's sake Toshiro!" she fumes, severely assaulting his left arm with her fist. "Use your fucking head!"

He would've smirked at her rather amusing antic if it weren't for the abrupt flinch she incites when she raises her hands yet again - only to run them through her hair with a groan of annoyance, "argh! You're so confusing! I don't even know what to think anymore!"

Fiery glare intact, she turns to face him fully once more. "What's the point of even telling me all this?" she demands curtly.

"'cause I wanna take you on a date," he says without hesitance, the statement of utmost honesty despite his blunt tone. "And I don't mean taking you to McDonalds at one in the morning or 'studying' with you at my house," he adds firmly. "I mean an actual date." Then, for good measure, "and I'm not giving up until I get one."

Having clearly not expected such a response, she stammers, "Toshiro-'

"I want you back, Karin," he claims pointedly, refusing to heed her protest. "How many more times to I have to say it?" Once again, it came out harsher than he intended, inciting a challenging scowl to twist her features.

"Maybe it just hasn't sunk in yet," she reasons blandly, arms folding over her chest with reprised and stubborn defense.

"Right," he jeers, stifling the urge to roll his eyes. "'cause I've only been chasing you for eight months-'

"Toying with me for eight months," she corrects flatly.

" _Fine_ ," he surrenders irritably, running a calloused hand through his hair. "I'll admit I went about it in a really dumb and screwed up way." She merely inclines her head. "But you're not so innocent either," he continues loftily. "I may have kissed you first, but you started the game." His outward aloofness has her resentment rising. "And you can't deny that you enjoyed it." He meets her glare with an almost spiteful smirk. "'cause _deep down_ , you know you're just as fucked up as I am."

A caustic laugh escapes her. "Wow Toshiro," she drawls, placing a hand over her heart. "I'm touched." Frustration piquing, his eyes harden once again. "You should really put that on a hallmark card," she says sarcastically. "'cause that was downright beautiful."

"What?" he retorts sharply. "Do you  _want_  some long sappy speech dictating how I feel about you?"

Her shoulders rise indifferently. "Maybe I do."

"Well you're not getting one," he asserts firmly; but there's a more tender tinge to his facet that keeps her intrigued. "No grovelling, no Shakespeare quotes; just the truth." She cocks an expectant brow. "I want to be with you, Karin." Her heart flutters. "I always have." Chest aching with endearment, she bites her lip. "And being the selfish bastard that I am, I'm not just gonna let you go," he continues subtly, taking a chance step towards her. "So will you  _please_  stop being so damn stubborn and take me back already?"

It goes without thinking, as she had already made up her mind. But her pride demands one last thing, keeping her grounded and her defiant scowl intact. "Why should I?" she challenges, having to fight the urge to mirror the smirk that breaks his feature.

"Because," he begins matter-of-factly; and with all heart and sincerity, it slides off his tongue so easily he can't believe he'd never said it before, "I love you."

There it is; the punchline. And all notions and feelings of opposition instantly disappear.

Minding the sudden bright gleam of her features and the low chuckle that leaves her, Toshiro furrows a quizzical brow. "What?"

Swiftly closing the distance, she casts him a triumphant grin. "I win." And recognition immediately sets in by way of an admirational scowl.

"You..."

Her brow quirks teasingly. "What?" she prods cutely.

Smirking, he makes to cradle her face in his hands, "... little amazing woman." And Karin barely has time to giggle or even bat an eyelash before he captures her lips, inciting a more than eager response as he weaves gentle fingers through her hair. Like clockwork, the rain begins to recede and they're left with contently skipping hearts and the bearings of future sickness while they brandish the act of kissing in a fervently expertise manner - all aspects of an 80's film ending perfectly in place.

However, despite this perfect moment, his own pride kicks at him and demands full congruity, prompting him to draw back a little too soon in order to meet her gaze. And with instant perception, she summons a playful grin, "and I don't hate you either."

He smirks, feeling oddly appeased. "I'll take it."

She merely giggles in response, slender arms wrapping around his neck and soft lips crushing against his once more, the notion of letting him go anytime soon nonexistent.

_._

_.nothing can compare, to when you roll the dice and swear your love's for me._

_._


	20. Epilogue

 

This is all her fault.

Yes, contrary to what she believes, _she_  seduced  _him_  - not the other way around. And  _she's_  the reason they're going to be late, not  _him_. He'd simply been preparing himself for the day's events when she just sauntered into his bedroom, with all her perfectly revealed skin and coy gleams, halting his precedent; luring him in like a magnet and exploiting his inability to resist her charms.

He's obviously the victim here. And so, being the 'prisoner' he is, he can do nothing other than steadily plunge into her, pinning her against the rather worn mattress whilst he governs her body with utmost expertise.

It's comparable to a game; like Operation. But rather than working to keep her calm and steady, he strives to make her moan and gasp; to incite the arch of her pelvis and lustful dig of her nails, collectively piquing their combined appetence. And he wants nothing more than to continue for an indefinite extent of time; to sustain this youthful euphoria.

However, his cognizance is beginning to blur due to the mid-August heat wafting through the room, and despite his wish to prolong the blissful outcome, dwindling restraint and prior engagements can no longer be ignored - so ensues the beginning of the end; grasping her hips, he draws her firmly against him and picks up the pace, causing the low ragged breaths to increase and the faint creak of the wooden bed frame to become far more audible, and it's not long before that wondrous sense of release vibrates through him.

He barely stifles a chuckle at the incoherent curse that escapes her as he rides that last moment of ecstasy - unwittingly serving to heighten the ego she works so hard to keep at a tolerable level - and with one last, winsome thrust, he lets his body fall comatose and languidly rolls onto his back. Reflexively, despite the near-excruciating heat, he drapes the disgruntled bed sheet over himself, and with an appeased sigh, basks in both the comforts of his bed and the light breeze coming in through the window, an idiotic grin twisting his handsomely flushed features.

However, this complacency is short-lived.

"Oh fuck!' Karin exclaims suddenly, having snapped out of her daze as soon as she'd regarded the time displayed on the nearby digital clock. "Were late!"

Toshiro merely rolls his eyes at her ignorance. ' _As if she didn't already know_.'

Sitting upright, he rests his elbows on his knees and silently observes her as she - with unnecessary haste - goes about putting on her dress; the dress that had started it all. A strapless guise of the palest pink that falls to mid-thigh, and with it's simplicity, it only accentuates her features. That, at least to him, are downright irresistible, hence their previous feat. It's unethical for one girl to be so utterly attractive, he muses on a daily basis, and it's within the first two minutes of observing her that he feels himself being lulled into yet another spell of captivation.

That is, until she suddenly whips around to face him. "What the hell are you doing?!" she essentially scolds, throwing a heap of black and white clothes at him unceremoniously. "Hurry up and get dressed!"

He's prompt to scowl. "Well I'm  _sorry_  that my body doesn't recover as fast as yours."

"Oh please," she mocks, flipping her long mane of tangled hair over her shoulder. "It ought to be used to it by now."

At that, he briefly succumbs to sexual reminiscence, a smirk plays his lips, and he soon gets to his feet, pulling on the pants she'd so gracefully thrown at him. Then, he swiftly proceeds to catch her off guard and capture her lips once more; tilting her chin up to subject her to one last kiss and eliciting the last touch to his perfect afternoon.

A moment later, he meets her brightened obsidian gaze, and in a rarely soft tone, he voices his thoughts. "I love you."

Cheeks tinging just a little deeper, she smirks, her reply predictable. "I know."

Retracting herself from his close proximity, Karin grabs her shoes and proceeds to the door. "Now hurry up," she repeats with an air of authority. "Or Rangiku's never gonna let us hear the end of it."

.

.

"Finally!" Rangiku greets exasperatedly once the young couple enters the room, immediately striding towards them. "'bout time you two got here!" she chides, the cape of her dress trailing after her. "You nearly missed my entrance!"

"We're really sorry, Ran," Karin says with almost modest sincerity. "We got, er... held up."

"What?" The blonde places her hands on her hips. "You couldn't wait till  _after_  to have slutty wedding sex?"

Both teal and obsidian eyes widen instantly. "That's not what happened!" Karin refutes rapidly, face flushing obtrusively. "We were just caught in traffic!"

"The traffic between your hormones?" Rangiku presumes, quirking her brow at the fumbling girl. "It's written all over you," she continues matter-of-factly, "from your messy hair to his inside out shirt - not to mention all those hickeys." She shakes her head, clicking her tongue, "...amateurs."

The fact that there are six other people in the room doesn't help abate Karin's disconcertion. "I'm quite hurt that having sex is more important to you than making my wedding on time," Rangiku continues to pout, while Toshiro, having gotten over his initial and rather brief embarrassment, merely rolls his eyes. "I mean, honestly, you guys are gonna have plenty of opportunities next year-'

"You make quite an exquisite bride, Rangiku," Toshiro remarks, his flat yet sincere tone cutting her off abruptly.

On reflex, the blonde minds her appearance, taking in the corset bust and fitted skirt, then shoots her cousin a broad grin. "Awe!" she squeals, bringing him into a suffocating embrace and swinging him from side to side like a common teddy bear. "Cousin! That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me! Thank you so much~!"

His muffled profanity is easily construed as a 'You're welcome', and she soon draws back to meet his irate glare with a cordial gleam. "Now fix yourselves up," Rangiku requests firmly, smoothing out her dress. "I want both of you at your highest level of cuteness for pictures."

.

.

Starry-eyed and brimming with tears - that's the spot on observation of the abundant crowd of his cousin's friends and colleagues, every one of them with their gaze set on the soon-to-be-wed couple as they exchange vows.

Toshiro, on the other hand, is far from sentimental - he's annoyed. The sun is too bright, the weather is too hot, and these vows are too long, all of which are making him sick to his stomach and quite desperate for this ceremony to be over so he can retreat to the wonderfully air-conditioned indoors.

He's being a selfish brat, he knows, but he doesn't care; he hates the heat and he isn't too fond of weddings, so sue him for wanting to escape.

Although, he still has the grace to stay grounded when hoots and applause break out around him, joining in with the congratulatory clapping. And once the wedding party is out of sight, he turns his attention to Karin with the incentive of making that sweet escape he's been planning for the better part of the past half-hour.

And he immediately deadpans. "Karin?" It takes him nearly a minute to comprehend the sight before him; Karin Kurosaki, his own girlfriend, is actually - "Are you crying?"

Eyes widening a fraction in embarrassment, she quickly wipes her jovial tears away. "No," she barely stifles a sniffle. "I just have something in my eye," his mouth curves into a teasing smirk, "like a twig.. or a branch.."

"Awe," he coos, pinching her cheek in a ridiculing manner. "So there's a girl in there after all. A true, sucker for sappy romance girl."

Swatting his hand away, she fumes, "shut up!"

"No need to be embarrassed, Karin," he says subtly, draping an arm around her shoulders as he makes to lead her back through the gardens. "It's perfectly natural."

Her scowl remains as they walk, yet she settles into his embrace nonetheless, and her irritation is just beginning to recede when, not even a minute later, "I just wish I had a camera," he sends it piquing yet again.

With an instant groan of annoyance, she practically pushes him into the nearby rose bushes and stomps away, muttering curses under her breath.

.

.

He knew she had a remarkable appetite, but this is just ridiculous. And now, he finds himself straining the muscles in his forearms so as to not drop the two plates she'd so charitably thrust into his grasp and since then, for several minutes, has been piling mounds of various cuisine on top, collectively weighing down his balance.

And it's only when she strives for more steak that he intervenes. "Karin, I think you're going a little overboard."

She shoots him a quizzical look. "What d'you mean?" He merely nods to the abundant portion of food in his grasp. "What? We have to take advantage of the free food!"

He rolls his eyes. "Uh huh.." she soon slaps a generous slab of steak atop a mass of potatoes and carrots, "well, the food isn't going anywhere, so I think we can risk making two trips." The look she gives him reflects pending protest, prompting him to add: "And if we loiter around any longer, the food's gonna get cold."

"Oh!" she gasps quietly, eyes broadening in concurrence. "You're right!"

With a leer of relief, he turns on his heel and begins his retreat back to their table, Karin in tow. But they don't make it very far before - "Wait! I forgot sweets!" Abruptly swivelling around, Karin makes to salvage said 'treats', and as a result of her unnecessary haste, she only manages three thoughtless steps before she bumps into an oncoming figure.

"Oh, sorry-' Words hitching once she regards her victim, her eyes broaden. Not with guilt or envy as they always had in the previous months, but rather, with surprise. "Momo?" she addresses quizzically; which draws Toshiro from him slightly annoyed reverie, inciting him to turn on his heel yet again to regard the interaction.

"Hey Karin," Hinamori greets in her usual cute way, then casts him a nod, "Toshiro."

"Hey.." he returns, brow creasing. "Er... what are you-' And it was then that he notes the lanky blonde man standing beside his ex-whatever-she-was, answering his own question.

"Oh," Momo gestures to her companion, "this is Izuru Kira."

"Ah," Toshiro nods, a knowing smirk playing his lips. "I remember you; you're my cousin's lackey."

"I prefer 'assistant'," Izuru corrects kindly, but it's clear he isn't too fond of the job, however way it's labelled.

And upon observation of their entwined hands - "Let me guess," Toshiro presumes aloud, "Rangiku set you two up." They merely nod in response; well, if she couldn't meddle in his love life, she would surely meddle in another's. And with this revelation, Karin, having long since forsaken her resentment towards the chocolate-haired beauty, grins happily and claps her hands together - sentiments clearly having not worn off yet.

"You guys are so-' However, her words abruptly hitch when her eyes dart to the distant food display, dark depths widening instantly in alarm. "Oh no! That's the last cupcake!"

Heaving a sigh, Toshiro shakes his head at the food-crazed girl as she practically sprints back to the table. "Okay," Momo giggles lightly, drawing his attention, "see you later, Toshiro."

He simply inclines his head as the two walk off, his attention drifting almost immediately back to Karin as she rejoins him, holding the proclaimed 'last cupcake' in her triumphant grasp; already missing a third of it's icing. And with a cordial gleam, she minds the retreating couple. "They look good together," she declares, submerging another wad of icing in her mouth.

Toshiro just shrugs and continues in the opposite direction. "She's done a lot worse..."

.

.

Appalled aquamarine eyes bore into her as she demolishes the last delightful portion of nourishment in their possession - having taken it from his plate - and with an appeased sigh, she leans back in her chair and rubs her unnoticeably protruding stomach. "That was delicious."

Snapping out of his trance, Toshiro pushes his plate away and leans on the table with one elbow, cheek resting on curled knuckles as he continues to stare at her in faint incredulity. "There are so many things about you I will never understand."

"Oh?" She raises a brow, straightening up. "Like what?"

"Well," he drawls, giving her a once over. "How you're not the size of a blimp is beyond me."

Eyes hardening immediately, she whacks him over the head. "Shut up!" He merely grins in response, a light chuckle escaping him.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Karin huffs, "I can be a blimp if I want to."

"Of course you can," he vouches cutely as he wraps both arms around her middle and brings her onto his lap. "Just more of you to love."

"Oh, get off." She presses a hand to his chest in a false attempt to repel the spell of kisses he administers on her cheek; yet he doesn't yield, merely tightening his embrace as he pecks the quickly reddening skin incessantly.

A change in songs occurs just then, followed by the amplified voice of whomever is holding the microphone. "Alright," the male's voice travels amongst the crowd, "Ladies and Gentlemen, as is the tradition, the bride and groom will have their first dance.."

On cue, Rangiku, elegant as ever, and Gin, quite entrancing himself, emerge out of nowhere and assume a waltz like stance, wasting no time in commencing the proclaimed tradition. Meanwhile, Karin settles once more into his arms and rests her head against his, an insuppressible smile meeting her lips as she watches the dynamic duo dance around in doting glee; clearly off in their own little world.

"Did you wanna dance?" Toshiro asks several minutes later, having noticed both the wistful gleam in her eyes and the mass of other couples starting to join in.

"Nah.." she shakes her head, "I don't really like dancing."

A white brow raises dubiously. "You danced with you-know-who several times at the Winter Formal," he reminds.

"That was just to make you jealous," she reasons offhandedly. "Doesn't mean I enjoyed it."

He feigns dejection, "so you'll dance with other guys to make me jealous but you won't dance with me.." and only receives a playful nudge on the arm.

"Lay off the melodrama, will you?" He stifles a chuckle; while she regards the dance floor once more. "We  _could_  dance, if you want to..." she considers blandly, shrugging. "Or, we could just get out of here."

"Really?" She merely nods, having been taking any opportunity of alone time with him those past few weeks due to rather vexing reasons. "Are you sure?" he prods, a mildly teasing smirk playing his lips. "I mean, if we leave now you won't have any chance at catching the bouquet."

"Well, unfortunately for me, I'm stuck with  _you_  for the rest of my life. So it doesn't really matter."

He chuckles. "You say the sweetest things to me, Karin."

Karin rolls her eyes. "Come on," she goads, grabbing his hand as she gets to her feet. "Let's go to the beach."

.

.

She's sulking.

Hands entwined, they wander aimlessly about the sandy shore, the sound of waves being the only thing breaking the silence, and it's starting to bother him. "Karin?" he eventually says; she gives a mere 'mhm' of acknowledgement. "What's wrong?"

Regaining full attention, she meets his gaze; cerulean eyes piercing with question. "What d'you mean?" she feigns ignorance.

"You've been acting strange all summer," he remarks bluntly. "Happy one minute and sad the next, and I wanna know what's up."

"Nothing," she asserts firmly.

But Toshiro remains unconvinced. "Don't make me force it out of you," he warns flatly, teasing the most sensitive spot on her body with his thumb and forefinger.

" _Fine_ ," she caves grudgingly, knowing full well that if she doesn't say anything then he'll just tickle her to tears until she does. "Maybe I'm just a little depressed that you're leaving in two weeks," she shrugs noncommittally, arms folding over her chest, "I mean, it'll be the first time in almost eight years that we'll be apart.. and it kinda sucks. That's all."

At that, relief settles in his chest. And with a smirk, he'll finally disclose his last secret. "I was going to wait until our first day and surprise you," he says subtly, reaching for the hidden contents in his back pocket. "But, I suppose now is as good a time as ever."

He soon hands her a folded off-white document, and once she unfolds it and minds the familiar school crest at the top lefthand corner, she doesn't bother to strain her eyes in order to read those joy evoking words; instead, she casts him a bright, yet slightly skeptical gleam. "Is this for real?"

Toshiro inclines his head. "As easy as it would be for my to make a fake acceptance letter; yes, it's real. I got it in March."

"...wait," she raises a brow, "you got this in _March?"_

"Yes."

In a split-second, a surge of irritation shoots through his bicep. "And you waited this long to tell me?!" she scolds, snapping her fist back as if readying another attack.

"Well, I received it the day you broke up with me," he feigns innocence, nursing his future bruise, "so I guess it slipped my mind." Then, his brow furrows. "What? Are you not happy about it?"

"Of course I'm happy!" she defends, anger receding as fast as it had spurred. "It's just.. I mean, what about your dream school? And moving to Tokyo? And-'

"And what? Leaving my awesome and super hot girlfriend to go to college  _alone?"_  He scoffs at the notion. "What do you take me for, an idiot?"

"Yes," she affirms after a long and seemingly decisive moment. Then, an amiable smirk twists her features. "But I love you for it."

His eyes prominently brighten. "What was that?" She rolls her eyes. "No really, say that again. I didn't quite catch it."

Karin scoffs, "again with the dramatics." Throwing her arms up in false frustration, she yields, "I love you, okay?" Hands soon finding her hips, she mutters the addition: "It's no fucking surprise."

Toshiro chuckles. "Well, after being Han Solo'd for the past five months, I guess it's just nice to hear out loud."

She smirks in response. "Well then, _Leia,"_  backing away slowly, she grasps the tab of her dress' zipper with her thumb and forefinger, "how about we go for a swim?" Its a rather out of the blue suggestion, but she doesn't care. Nor does she care that, having let her 'simplistic guise' fall to the ground, she's now standing half-naked on a local beach. "That is, unless you'd rather stay 'warm and somewhat dry' and just observe..."

"Nah," he denies coolly, unfastening the buttons of his shirt as he approaches her. "I think I prefer the hands-on experience."

Letting a spur of giggles escape her, Karin breaks into a sprint towards the water in a sudden spell of vivacious glee. And Toshiro doesn't even bother to fully undress before following her with the playful attitude that only she's able to stimulate.

Oh yes, he definitely chose a good night.

_._

_.well I may be just a fool, but I know you're just as cool, and cool kids, they belong together._

_._

* * *


End file.
